


Player Two?

by Sineluce_Velius_Tristitia



Series: Did We Make it a Two Player Game? [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst., Angst?, Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, Feeling the characters out, First BMC Fic, I have Jeremy Bias okay, Kinda?, M/M, Misunderstandings?, My First Work in This Fandom, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Role Reversal, Shit is going down hard omg, Slow Burn, The writer has no sensibilities, This is basically Jeremy pining, WIP, eh, i get distracted by character building, i think, im so sorry, like very slow, so far - Freeform, so maybe ooc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-04-18 19:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14220531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sineluce_Velius_Tristitia/pseuds/Sineluce_Velius_Tristitia
Summary: Christine Canigula stood in front of the poster, hand poised to write her name.And then he—well, Michaelmelted.And then Jeremy—Jeremy fisted his hands so tightly he was sure it would bruise; gritted his teeth until it creaked.Because here’s another thing about Michael Mell and Jeremy Heere:Michael Mell has a crush on Christine Canigula the size of New Jersey.Jeremy Heere was pretty sure he is in love—because God save his bleeding heart—with Michael Mell. His best friend. His player one.His Michael Mell.-------Alternatively: The fic where Michael is the one who has a crush on Christine... for now





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So first of all: I love playing around with canon. Tweaking things here and there and watch it unfold like the butterfly effect.  
> Second of all: I actually have no idea what i am doing. I'm new in the fandom okay.  
> And then: I apologize for future fuck ups I will do (heaven forbid I don't do that at least three times per day).
> 
> Also, I don't have a beta or anything else *grins* And expect Filipino somewhere because I am one!!!

The thing about routines is that it is made to be followed. It’s a structure for otherwise non-structured day-to-day living of people. _Normal_ people. Routines are normal, okay, even if it’s more apparent to _others_. Routines are an _okay_ in normal human society.

Another thing about it is that it varies from person to person. _This_ is where it might not _be_ okay.

“C-c’mon,” Jeremy Heere grumbled, fingers twitching and leg bouncing sporadically with impatience and some sort of anticipation, “ _load!_ ”

Cerulean blue eyes squinted at the dimmed screen of a laptop, focus completely trained on the slowly— _ever so painfully slow_ —buffering video. His eyes darted down on the laptop’s clock every now and then, cursing under his breath as another minute passed by and only the icons have successfully loaded.

Jeremy huffed as 7:23 AM changed into 7:24 AM, “S-stupid, crappy internet. Stupid, cra-appy a-ads.”

Of course, this was a kind of normal start for the day of one Jeremy Heere. Watching porn (and— _yes! the thumbnail has finally loaded_ ) is pretty normal, considering the lifestyle of teenagers.

 _Normal_. _Okay_.

But, well, masturbating in the morning before going to school? The moment the entirety of Middleborough High finds that out, even someone with Chloe Valentine and Jake Dillinger’s social standing would crumble into a harassed heap of high school embarrassment, unable to climb back up the social hierarchy.

“ _Gah!_ ” Jeremy nearly jumped out of his skin as a vibrating buzz snapped him out of his thoughts. His knee collided with the table and he winced, “ _Fuck._ ”

He picked up his phone—the cause of that annoying buzz—and unlocked it irritably, opening the notification that popped up in the screen.

 ** _Received [7:36 AM]  
I’m Player ONE!!: _** dude wer u rn?  
**_I’m Player ONE!!:_** im outside  
**_I’m Player ONE!!:_** im… heere ;D  
**_I’m Player ONE!!:_** hah. dude  
_**I’m Player ONE!!** :_ jer

Jeremy’s eyes widened.

_Shit._

Right, Michael was picking him up.

Jeremy bit his lip, coming into a hasty decision and slamming his laptop close instead of waiting for it to shut down. He was in the middle of pulling on his pants when his phone buzzed again. Quickly tucking in his shirt, he opened the messages and made a noise of embarrassment, his entire face flooded with heat.

 ** _Received [7:38 AM]  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** dude  
**_I’m Player ONE!!:_** r u srsly ** _  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** jacking off rn  
****_I’m Player ONE!!_ :  ;)

 __ **Sent [7:39 AM]**  
NO  
MICHAEL  
I’m coming down now

With haste, Jeremy slipped on his cardigan (sparing a moment to nervously brush his fingers on the soft fleece), ran a hand through his unruly hair in an (futile) attempt to tame it, grabbed his backpack, and bolted down the stairs. The mirror in the hallway was not given a glance, the passed out form on the couch given the same treatment.

Michael’s PT Cruiser was easy to spot what with its Bob Marley-ish color scheme that still _somehow_ managed to blend in with the other student cars unless it was singled out. It was a phenomenon Jeremy can never understand.

“’Sup!” Michael called out from the rolled down window, a grin stretching his lips. “Need a lift?”

Jeremy quirked a smile, hands and toes curling. “Y-yeah!”

“C’mon then you ass,” Michael gestured with his head, rolling his eyes and raising his eyebrows. “We’re seriously gonna be late if you don’t, like, move now.”

Jeremy hesitated only for a second before darting over to the passenger side and buckling up in a practiced manner.

“Thanks, uh,” Jeremy fiddled with his backpack before jamming it between his legs. “You didn’t have to pick me up.”

Michael snorted in a non-derisive manner, “Yeah, well, you kinda asked? Last night? I’d be such a bad friend if I ignored your groveling. But you were. A bad friend. I mean, you were _jacking_ _off._ ”

“I-I was _not_!” Jeremy was sure his face is entirely red by this time. Michael wasn’t wrong but that doesn’t mean Jeremy _had_ to agree even if both of them knew the truth. Still, it was highly embarrassing causing Jeremy to pinch and pull at the hem of his sleeves.

“Suuure,” Michael cracked up laughing and Jeremy shifted uncomfortably. Pulling into drive, Michael let Jeremy stew in his embarrassment with the lively notes of an indie rock music blasting through the radio.

Teasing was normal between them; _hell_ , they’d pretty much humiliate each other every time the opportunity presented itself. Perks of being friends— _best friends—_ for more than a decade include a lifetime of blackmail material. But it comes with the unspoken (and unbroken) promise of keeping it to themselves. Not that they could share it with anyone else.

Because here’s the thing about Michael Mell and Jeremy Heere:

They are the school’s outcast. Generally, the whole high school population ignored them; and more specifically, no one actually took the time to make conversations with them. It was better than being targeted by bullies though. Because even _bullies_ ignore them. Hardly does anyone take notice of them unless they actually _had_ to.

Case in point, when Chloe Valentine sniffed in disgust as Jeremy desperately gestured to his locker slightly red-faced that morning when they finally arrived at school. And _then_ completely ignoring his stuttered apologies. Even David From Spanish Class received a glare of disdain from the popular girl.

(Okay, so maybe David was a complete pervert _and_ a nerd and even Jeremy made it a point to avoid him. But still.)

Seriously, it wasn’t his fault they were gossiping right in front of _his_ locker.

“What’s up with her?” Michael had his headphones on but was blinking at Chloe Valentine’s back.

Jeremy shrugged even though he knew Michael wouldn’t see it. He’d never understand the way other people’s mind worked.

He turned back to face his locker and unlocked it, shuffling through his things and gathering the books he will need before closing it. Just as he was done, the bell rang, high and shrill, and somehow Michael didn’t hear it. The other teen still stood there, eyes closed and head bobbing to the music blasting through his ears at probably the maximum volume.

Jeremy bit his lip as a smile caused it to twitch, eyes rolling in exasperation. He reached up and tugged at one side of the gadget. Michael startled with an indignant ‘ _hey!_ ’ and Jeremy quirked an eyebrow, letting the white headphones haphazardly settle around Michael’s neck.

“L-let’s go Michael,” Jeremy pulled on Michael’s arm. “We g-gotta get to class.”

Jeremy didn’t bother to look back at Michael and instead continued on his way to their class.

His hand never did leave its place until it had to.

+++

Classes were a flurry of inattention and taking down notes. Jeremy certainly wasn’t top of the class—never had been, never would be—but he managed to get by. He does great, if he says so himself. Straight B’s with a couple of A-‘s here and there while barely paying attention to the teachers. Michael does better, though. Only a smattering of B+ in a sea of A’s ( _hah!_ ) even while sleeping in class.

The ‘ _How the fuck’_ is drowned by in-relation-to-being-his-awesome- _friend_ pride. And also the fact that both of them actually _had_ to do some work to get those grades. Just… not in class. Not having a social life besides each other frees up time for something other than video games and movies. Michael’s already blurred eyesight could only take so much blue light.

Lunch came as reprieve from the stifling atmosphere created by restless students.

Unlike Michael who can actually sneak out of campus for his seven eleven fix, Jeremy had to fall in line with other students to buy lunch at the cafeteria. The food sucks, the people serving it sucks—

“Yo watch it, tall-ass!”

Jeremy stumbled back, barely managing to find his balance as he was pushed out of the line by another boy. Automatically, his mouth opened to the mumble out stuttered apologies. But then the boy continued on to talk without another acknowledgement sent his way.

“Hey Jakey-D, what’s the story about Madeline?”

And smoothly, as if he hadn’t pushed another person out of the line, the boy— _Richard Goranski, primary asshole, secondary jokester—_ sidled up to Jeremy’s previous position, fist bumping with Jake Dillinger.

Anger bubbled up Jeremy’s guts but quickly deflated into shame and acceptance.

 _Right_.

He eyed the other students, all completely indifferent to what happened.

The line was still long and the aspect of being in there longer than he already had made his stomach quiver unpleasantly.

He wasn’t in the mood for food anyway.

Jeremy trudged on to the table he and Michael usually invaded, hands flexing and anxiously rubbing over soft fleece and hard polyester. The table stood at a corner; too small for two people but held three chairs and close enough to the doors that it gets smacked whenever a student became too enthusiastic in entering the cafeteria. Isolated enough to almost be called an island.

No one ever sits there but the two of them.  It wasn’t the Loser’s Table; no, that name is reserved to the thoroughly vandalized piece of work near the storage closet. But it was _their table_ and Jeremy refused to further examine _that_ attachment.

He sighed and dumped his bag on the chair closest to the door before plopping down the one with its back to the wall. He fumbled with his pockets, eyes squinting as he tried to find his phone.

In the end, he had to look through his bag before finding it. Quickly plugging the earphones and jamming the buds in his ears, Jeremy buried his head in his arms and vaguely hummed along the notes of whatever song was on.

By the third song, his hands stopped trembling and his shoulders lost the tension it held all morning that was worsened by Rich Goranski’s almost-public humiliation (if Jeremy hadn’t been _too much_ of a _nobody,_ everyone would have made a deal out of it).

He was startled from the sort-of-trance by a heavy weight draping over his shoulders.

“Jeremy, my buddy, how’s it hanging? Lunch is bangin’. Had my sushi, got my slushie and more!”

Immediately relaxing (and having an embarrassing screech die at his throat) as he recognized Michael’s voice, Jeremy untangled one hand from his head’s nest and half-heartedly pushed at where he thinks Michael’s head might be. He was speaking in Bob Marley tunes again.

Michael laughed but continued on his song, making a drum beat at Jeremy’s out stretched hand, “The roll was negimaki and I’m feeling kinda cocky ‘cause the girl at Sev’ Elev’ gave me a gen-e-rous pour.”

Jeremy twitched and sat up straighter, raising an eyebrow at Michael, “Marley again?”

Michael nodded enthusiastically and made a little jiggle with his hands and feet. “Oh, I’m listening to Marley and the groove is hella gnarly and we’re almost at the end of this song!” He made another drum beat, this time on his own legs before dropping down on the free chair in one smooth movement that would have had Jeremy tripping many times over had he be the one to do it. “And that was the end, now tell me friend; how was class? You look like ass. What’s wrong?”

Jeremy shrugged, “Nothing, really.”

“Where’s your food?” Michael frowned at the empty table.

“I, uh,” Jeremy stammered, already knowing how much fuss Michael would raise if he found out what happened. “I a-already finished?” He winced as his words ended in a high note that sounded more of a question than anything. “B-but anyway!” Frantically, Jeremy searched for something to change the subject, eyes eventually landing on the poster put up by Mr. Reyes earlier in the day. “I-I decided to s-sign up for the play!”

“The…play?” Michael sounded as incredulous as his face expresses. “The _play?_ ”

“Yeah!” _No_ , Jeremy did not _want_ to sign up for the play. “Y-you know, maybe it’ll help? With- with everything?” Why couldn’t his stammering mouth shut up? He’d die if he joined the play, not help with anything at all!

“Yeah, I guess.”

“B-besides,” _I don’t even want to do anything in front of other people_ , Jeremy wants to say but apparently his mouth wasn’t his own anymore. “Look who’s signing up!”

Michael’s bewildered face slowly turned to do just that.

Christine Canigula stood in front of the poster, hand poised to write her name.

And then he—well, Michael _melted_.

And then Jeremy—Jeremy fisted his hands so tightly he was sure it would bruise; gritted his teeth until it creaked.

Because here’s another thing about Michael Mell and Jeremy Heere:

Michael Mell has a crush on Christine Canigula the size of New Jersey.

Jeremy Heere was pretty sure he is in love— _because God save his bleeding heart_ —with Michael Mell. His best friend. His player one. _His Michael Mell_.

“M-maybe you could sign up too?” _What in the fuck?_

Michael blinked and then the blitzed out expression disappeared and was replaced with a contemplative look (complete with a hand rubbing at his chin, _the absolute dork_ ). His eyes darted to Christine and then back at Jeremy. “You sure you wanna join the play?”

 _No._ “Y-yeah!” Jeremy mustered up his best encouraging smile. If nothing, Michael would have a chance to be close with Christine (he ignored the sharp pang and the knots that formed in his stomach—he hadn’t eaten anything since this morning, that was it). And yeah, the play might help with Jeremy’s anxiety. Face your fears and all that.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll join the play.” Then Michael slung an arm across Jeremy’s shoulder, pulling him in a half-embrace. “Can’t leave my player two to be eaten by the sharks!”

Jeremy forced out a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as mechanical as it felt, “I’ll beat that title out of you soon.”

“Dream on!” Michael full on cackled, arm still holding Jeremy in place. “I’m _Player One_!!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeremy huffed. “Just you wait, Michael.”

“ _Oooh_ , quoting Hamilton on me?”

And then Michael shrieked because Jeremy decided that biting him was the best retort.

“ _Fuck_ , ow! Jeremy!”

It was Jeremy’s turn to laugh, burying his red face on his arms. He emerged, grinning from ear to ear. His eyes caught sight of the sign-up sheet and his grin felt strange on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love play rehearsal because it's the bEst!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I am very surprised to the feedbacks. I... have never had that much. Thank you. I was close to tears, you guys. And as the emotionally constipated person that I am, I have no idea how to express my deepest gratitude except by updating this early.
> 
> Still tho, this thing's UnEdITeD!! I'm lazy enough not to really do it.

If someone asked Jeremy Heere what he is doing, he’d probably say _I don’t know_. Well, it would be said with a red-face and stutter but who cares anyway? Certainly not anyone (that mattered).

The sign-up sheet mockingly stared at him, seemingly illuminated by a spotlight for added mockery.

He really, _really_ didn’t want to do this but Michael was looking at him expectantly, headphones on and fidgeting but there all the same. He can’t disappoint Michael now. Jeremy had to be a good _best friend_ and not let any questionable emotions ruin anything. He’d be the wingman— _he’s supposed to be the wingman, goddammit_.

Jeremy thought he might throw up.

Shakily, he scrawled his name right below glitter pen-written _Christine Canigula_. He nearly dropped the pen twice but thankfully managed fine.

“You okay, Jer?”

Jeremy turned to see Michael’s worried face and gave him a smile he hoped came out convincing but based on the furrow of Michael’s brow, he was fooling no one. Not trusting his voice, Jeremy held a thumb up and patted Michael in reassurance. Besides, he was still wearing his headphones.

Then he gave Michael the pen and the other boy signed his name.

And as if the world was waiting for this moment, a scream of _‘Gay!’_ startled Jeremy enough to flinch pathetically.

Everyone was laughing now and Jeremy hunched into his shoulders, nose stinging and face heating up because there are so many people laughing and sneering and—oh no. _Oh no,_ he can’t cry here. _Not now_.

Tears prickled behind his eyelids, a whimper stuck at his throat. He can’t- shit—

_Don’tcrydon’tcrydon’tcry—_

“Hey- hey,” A hand landed on his shoulder, startling him badly.

Jeremy’s eyes flew open, nearly jumping back as he came face-to-nose with Michael. For a brief moment, Jeremy entertained the thought that the expression that flashed across Michael’s face was _hurt_. But it wasn’t, he knew it wasn’t. He was probably making Michael feel _bad_ because Jeremy was just always so _nervous and anxious_ and _Michael_ is actually a normal, functional human being.

“We could- we could, you know, not really show up if it bothers you that much.”

 _No! Nononono—_ he can’t let his insecurities and anxiety stop Michael from _finally_ talking to Christine.

Jeremy tried to smile, desperately hoping that the tears would keep itself at bay, “No! No I- I’m just very nervous a-and I actually rea-really wanna t-try it, uh, and- and it could b-be something we’ll d-do together!” He winced at the cracks his voice made.

The dubious look Michael gave him was usually enough to have Jeremy spill the beans but he had to hold it together. A minute passed with Jeremy and Michael staring at each other’s eyes. Then Michael sighed, giving up, and instead made that smile-smirk that made Jeremy’s heart sink into his stomach. He ignored that feeling.

“Okay, let’s go. Lunch is almost over.”

A part of Jeremy envied how Michael always seems to let the insults to him fall into useless words. Jeremy knew, out of the two of them, Michael was the one on the receiving end of jeering taunts and minimal amount of bullying.

Jeremy just… kinda melts into the background. Which was great, really. People say interesting things when they think no one is there.

Michael was loud and bright and funny and ~~(the coolest, most lovable person Jeremy knew)~~ could probably stand toe-to-toe with at least Brooke Lohst in the hierarchy if Jeremy wasn’t with him. He’s an awesome person. Michael could get whatever he wants if Jeremy didn’t hold him back.

But Jeremy was actually selfish enough to not leave his side. _Selfish enough to fall in love with him and be so fucking pathetic about it._

So the least he could do is this.

+++

Play rehearsal came much sooner than Jeremy would have liked.

The last period was spent as an anxious mess, furiously doodling over his notebook and ripping it apart because it felt _good_. Better, actually, than vigorously scratching at his arms. He didn’t want Michael to notice how much he _hated_ the idea of performing in front of people is. And besides, this is his favorite cardigan. His comfort jacket could withstand his blunt nails much better.

As soon as the bell rang, Jeremy bolted out of the room. He dodged his way through the only half-filled hallway and into the nearest bathroom.

His stomach had been in knots since lunch.

Luckily, no one else was inside. Slamming the door shut and claiming one of the stalls to himself, Jeremy let the blessed silence calm his nerves. He stood there, eyes squeezed shut with his forehead resting on the plastic door.

He took a moment to collect himself.

 _Breathe in four, out for four_.

Now, time to talk some sense to himself.

It was only _play rehearsal_. There hadn’t even been anyone else who signed up except for him, Michael and Christine. The after school play had never been that popular. Because no one wanted to be called gay.

 _Okay. That- that’s good. Breathe in four, out for four_.

Yeah, what was he so worried about? He could always keep to himself. Also, Michael would be there. He had nothing to worry about. Besides, Mr. Reyes could be self-conceited so even _he_ wouldn’t be trouble. Maybe he could even befriend Christine? Or talk to her at least. She seems nice. Jeremy can’t hate her for being a better person than him.

_See? What’re you so nervous about?_

“You can do this,” Jeremy whispered to himself, rubbing his hands over his pants, liking the way the rough material tickled at his palms. “For Michael.”

_For Michael. Right. He can’t let this be about Jeremy again._

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Jeremy unlocked the stall. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and sighed at how blotchy he looked. It was probably a good idea to wash up before leaving the bathroom. It was a miracle no one else entered while he was there.

He can do this.

+++

He can’t do this.

Michael was already in the room where they would meet for the play rehearsal when Jeremy arrived.

More importantly, he was already talking to Christine. Alone. Inside the room.

Something about the grins on their faces—readily visible to anyone who peeks into the window of the door—stopped Jeremy from entering the room. His eyes watered slightly and the non-existent food in his stomach painfully lurched. The ugly, _ugly_ thing Jeremy desperately hid reared its head.

He had no control over his actions when he slammed the door open.

The loud smack made him flinch, shame immediately swallowing the _thing_ whole.

Both Michael and Christine whipped their heads over to him and Jeremy wished to disappear right then and there.

Then Michael was grinning _at him,_ excitedly waving his hand for him to come over. “Jeremy!”

“U-uh, hey Michael,” Jeremy mumbled, shuffling his way over, head ducked as low as it possibly could. “H-hey Christine,” And then Jeremy smacked his head because _he was already screwing things up, how could he know Christine’s name without being introduced to each other??_

“Jeremy, right?” Christine had a grin on her face. “Michael told me about you!”

 _Michael told me about you, too,_ Jeremy wanted to say but managed not to. Instead he tried a smile and Christine’s grin widened. “Y-yeah, uh, thanks?”

“But I didn’t say anything!” Christine’s eyes widened and there was an abrupt drop in her energy. “Oh! Oh, I forgot! I’m Christine Canigula, nice to meet you!” And she thrust her hand out in a handshake.

Jeremy laughed awkwardly, nervously taking her hand to shake it briefly before letting go. “I, uh, guess I’m J-Jeremy Heere? Nice to, uh, me-meet you?”

He looked beside him for assistance only to see Michael grinning, not even looking at him but instead had his eyes trained on Christine. And Jeremy feels that ugly _thing_ again but he crushed it before it could control his actions again.

“So, uh, where’s everyone else?” Jeremy decides to ask.

Christine shrugs despondently and Jeremy wonders how she managed to emulate a kicked puppy. “Well, we’ve been having problems in gathering members lately. So maybe it’s just the three of us this season.”

Just as she finished her sentence, the door slammed open.

“Woo-hoo!”

“Play rehearsal yo!”

“When has this theater ever been here?”

And Jeremy freezes because entering the room were a group of people he never wished to be in close vicinity with. Jake Dillinger, the most popular boy in school due to his natural charm and handsome looks; Rich Goranski, well-known for his sexual exploits; Jenna Rolan, the primary source of the school’s rumor mill; Brooke Lohst, second prettiest girl in school, and; Chloe Valentine, the most popular girl in school.

The moment you mess up right in front of them, you’re done for. If Rich didn’t humiliate you on the spot, Jenna’s network would make sure you’ll never be able to live it down. Chloe and Brooke would pretty much destroy everything you’ve ever known in high school. Jake was probably the nicest out of all of them.

They are a thing of nightmares for Jeremy Heere.

Mr. Reyes arrived in the time the newly arrived group had settled down on their seats. Jeremy hadn’t noticed the teacher come in, still didn’t to be quite honest. The fact that he was sat beside Jenna Rolan didn’t help at all.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jeremy turned his attention to what Mr. Reyes was saying.

“—I have been dreaming of the day I get to stage William Shakespeare’s classic ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ –”

“YES!” Christine interrupted, excitedly jumping out of her seat. Jeremy wouldn’t blame her, getting to play a classic is pretty cool.

But apparently, Mr. Reyes wasn’t finished. “And today, that dream dies.”

“What?” Again, it was only Christine who reacted.

“And is reborn!”

Jeremy sighed at the dramatics. He let his mind wander as Mr. Reyes rambled on and on about the play. Jeremy was honestly trying _very hard_ to ignore the pit that slowly grew in his stomach as it sunk in that he was doing _this_ ; a fucked up version of a Shakespearean play with the popular students and Michael and Christine.

Someone bumped on his side and Jeremy was flung out of his thoughts. Michael was leaning quite close with a wide grin on his face.

“Dude this is awesome!” It was whispered in a hushed tone and Jeremy knew Michael was excited. “I mean, _zombies_. I guess this idea hadn’t been so bad after all.”

“Yeah.” Well, at least one of them was thrilled. “I guess.”

“C’mon Jer!” Michael slung an arm around his shoulders. “Lighten up! This was your idea!”

And it was. Jeremy sighed, “I know. I-it’s just—never mind. I just have to get used to it? I think.”

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

“Wh- _what?!_ ” Jeremy sputtered, turning his head to Christine.

Beside him, Jenna Rolan whistled lowly, “Smooth.”

“Zip it, Jenna,” Christine almost-snapped and Jeremy was surprised that it was possible for her _to_ snap.

Jenna raised her hands in mock surrender and turned back to her phone. For a second, Jeremy thought Jenna looked kind of hurt but quickly dismissed it. _No way_ would a girl like her be affected that much by something small.

“Anyway,” Christine was back to excitability. “I meant; this is also your first play rehearsal.”

It wasn’t exactly a question but Jeremy nodded mutely.

“I’m jealous—” Jeremy flinched at her words and Michael gave him a look but Jeremy shook his head. “—you never forget your first. Play rehearsal.”

Jeremy wasn’t really in the mood to talk now and was thankful when Michael put his attention to taking over the conversation with Christine.

 _Jealous_.

Jeremy couldn’t fool himself into believing that he wasn’t jealous of Christine. But here, having talked to her and actually finding her an okay person? The feeling of jealousy was heavily followed by guilt.

Maybe if he lied to himself enough, Jeremy could convince himself that Michael was better off without him. Could convince himself that he was a _fucking burden_ to his best friend and actually do something about it. Christine could easily take his place. She’s great, certainly heaps better than him. Michael deserved someone better than Jeremy.

With his mood soured, Jeremy shrugged Michael’s arm off his shoulders. It was getting heavy and stifling.

Michael didn’t attempt to put it back nor seemed to notice, too absorbed in his conversation with Christine.

And it was _stupid_ because Jeremy wanted him to. Wanted Michael to ask him what’s wrong; wanted Michael to put his arm back where it was even if Jeremy would be tense and slightly annoyed; wanted _Michael_ —

_Shut the fuck up._

“Hot Pocket break!”

Jeremy grabbed his bag and made an escape like the coward he was. As he left, he chanced a look back.

He didn’t know what he was expecting (maybe Michael’s confused face watching as he went?) but no one spared him a glance. Except Jenna. She had a weird frown-smile going on that Jeremy registered as… unreadable, really. But she didn’t look away, just stared at him, probably wondering what the weirdo was doing.

And in that moment, Jeremy thought he would finally have the Breakdown that had been slowly building up through the years of surviving high school. He didn’t, though, because he wouldn’t throw away years of determination in minding the tides.

Jeremy left, stomach still in knots. Maybe he'd get a bite before heading home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I think I should give y'all a heads up. My damage leans more toward sociopathy than anxiety (it's still not fun tho) so some things might come out wrong. I can get some stuff mixed up and shit.
> 
> Again, many many many many thanks to all of you!!! <3 xoxo


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apocalypse of the DAmned
> 
> LEvel NINE, the cAFETOriUm!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a bit too short for my tastes but, eh, we got a flight tomorrow....*checks clock* ah later today and I'm gonna be out of commission (probably) for the next 10 days! I just wanted to post something before we leave for.... wait for it....
> 
> JAPPAAAAAN!!!!
> 
> Still UnEdItEd :))))))))))

The school hallways were silent as Jeremy trudged on.

Students have long since gone home for the weekend and only those who had extracurricular stayed. Even then, most clubs tend to meet outside the school building. It would have otherwise been such a strange thing to see the usually crowded halls so deserted.

Jeremy was normally one of those who left early with a large chunk of the crowd. But apparently, escaping from the first meeting of after school rehearsals would have him bear witness to the stillness.

It was unnerving to say the least. And didn’t help at all with his thoughts.

He’d overreacted, a tad bit overdramatic. Yeah, he didn’t really say anything—which makes him feel slightly better—but that still didn’t stop the unpleasant gnawing of guilt. There hadn’t been a reason for ditching play rehearsal. _Hell_ , he didn’t even know what set him off!

Usually, he had a better grasp of his emotions. But this thing with Michael and Christine grated on his nerves much, _much_ harder than he knew it should.

Michael wasn’t even very vocal about his crush. He’s more the ‘I-like-her-but-I’m-not-going-to-be-creepy-about-it’ than the ‘I-like-her-so-I’ll-talk-about-her-as-much-as-possible’. He’s cool about it. Chill. And if Jeremy hadn’t been so _aware_ that Michael’s attention on him is slipping, he would have forgotten all about it.

Heck, even _that_ is occasional. Michael only ever talks about Christine when she’s done something noticeable.

For example, when she went to school wearing some fluffy bunny slippers because apparently she got up late; Michael briefly gushed at how adorable that was. (Jeremy would have thought so too, if he wasn’t so distracted by a flustered Michael)

Or that time when Christine got a new hair clip that Michael _absolutely_ adored the color of (it was a pretty shade of pastel blue that clashed with her dress). Or that time when Michael caught her humming a song from this very obscure band that he liked (Jeremy had to suffer through an entire week of listening to that band after that day). Or—

Maybe he was only having a Bad Day.

All the stress of the day probably got to him. Because, well, additional social interaction with people who are not Michael? Getting pushed out of line? Not having had anything to eat anything since the cold pizza last night? Each one of those alone would’ve had him a mess.

Curling up in his room sounded nice. Maybe even a small tub of ice cream with a cinnamon roll or blueberry muffin (whichever’s available in the store) for a late lunch or early dinner. There was still the left-over pasta from last night’s takeout. Food and drowning under the covers sounded good.

Yeah, he probably _should_ do that and text Michael where he’s gone. Michael had this habit of freaking out if he doesn’t know where Jeremy went.

Hopefully he’d be fine in time for when Michael comes over ~~(if he doesn’t make plans with Christine, that is. They seemed to get along well)~~.

+++

 **** _Saved as Draft [3:58 PM]  
_ hey man  
i went home

 ** _Saved as Draft [4:00 PM]_**  
guess i couldnt handle it  
hope u had fun with Christine

 ** _Saved as Draft [4:13 PM]_**  
this is bullshit

**_[Drafts Deleted]_ **

**_Received [4:46 PM]  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** jeremy werd u go???  
****_I’m Player ONE!!:_ practices done

**_[4:49 PM]_  
Incoming Call**

_I’m Player ONE!!_

“Hey.”

“ _Jeremy, where are you? I had to hear from **Jenna Rolan** that you left. _**Jenna Rolan** _. I cannot emphasize that point enough._ ”

“Uh, ah, I kinda went home ‘cause I wasn’t feeling so well?”

“ _Why didn’t you say anything?!_ ”

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t really anything major. My stomach just kinda acted up a bit? Anyways, I’m fine now.”

A beat of silence, then, “ _You didn’t eat anything at lunch, did you?_ ”

“…no. Yes? Uh, I had some candy in fourth.”

“ _Jeremy! You know if you continue this you’d have more than stomach ulcer to deal with._ ”

“That was—”

“ _Two months ago!_ ”

“I’m sorry. But I already ate something on the way home.”

“ _…fine. You gotta tell me these things, Jeremy. I’m worried._ ”

“You’re always worried.”

“ _Yeah, if only because my player two keeps on fucking up._ ”

“…shut up.”

“ _Uh-huh. So you still up to beating level 9?_ ”

“Of course! But… aren’t you with Christine?”

“ _Christine’s not my player two, is she?_ ”

“I guess…”

“ _Yeah! See ya! Ranch barbecue or cheese?”_

“I’m in the mood for chili, I think.”

“ _Sounds dangerous but gotcha!_ ”

**I’m Player ONE!! Disconnected**

+++

“So what do you think?”

Jeremy breaks out of his intense focus on picking out the correct cords to connect to the television. “Huh?”

“I mean,” Michael picks up the controller that Jeremy had dropped in front of him while setting up the console. “It’s totally weird shit and it came from _Rich Goranski_  but…”

“But?” It was an absent-minded response though Jeremy was anything but.

Michael fiddles with the controller as he continued to speak, “I don’t know. I’m curious, I guess. I wanna know what this squip thing is about.”

Jeremy sighs and plops down on his beanbag right beside Michael’s, not entirely seeing the point in this conversation. “Dude, do you want to be popular?”

“Well, no—”

“Do you want to rule the school?”

“Awesome but no—”

“I’m not gonna ask you if you want to be cool ‘cause you kind of already are.”

Michael grinned lazily. “Thanks?”

“But Michael,” Jeremy said with seriousness, “do you even _really_ need a quick?”

There was a moment of silence, only the opening theme of _Apocalypse of the Damned_ played as background noise. Then Michael burst out laughing and Jeremy cracked his own smile but still flushed in embarrassment.

“S-Q-U-I-P, Jeremy,” Michael managed out between giggles, “not _quick_. Oh my God if someone said that to Rich’s face. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. Maybe that would have had him repeat that entire monologue about the shit.” He cleared his throat and made weird motions with his hands. “ _It’s from Japan/It’s a grey oblong pill/Quantum nanotechnology CPU_ — that last part doesn’t even make any sense!”

“It sounded close enough!” Jeremy huffed, only half-joking being offended. Still, a smile incessantly tugged at his lips.

“Sorry, sorry,” Michael finally managed to get himself under control.

Jeremy opened his mouth to continue on his dialogue but Michael pressed the start button. _Apocalypse of the Damned_ was the kind of game that never started without both players pressing the start button. And this— _this_ —was a conversation Jeremy felt they needed to continue even if it seems like nothing or some sort of scam their popular peers decided to do.

_But._

Michael seemed resolute in whatever decision he has made.

Jeremy pressed the start button and let the familiarity of screaming at pixilated zombies engulf him. They cleared a few bonus levels as a sort of warm up before taking on the formidable Level 9: The Cafetorium. It was one of the most challenging levels in the _Apocalypse_ series but certainly not the last.

They’d been stuck at that level for _weeks_ but instead of tiring them out, it just made them more determined to beat the level. Today is the same as the many days before it; utter concentration in annihilating pixel-zombie butt.

Yet Jeremy remained restless and unable to turn his full concentration on the game.

In the middle of their fifth try, Jeremy decided to break the semi-silence with something other than a scream of warning. “How was, uh, play rehearsal?”

“Hm? Oh— _watch out!_ —it was fine.” Michael sent a brief glance at him before focusing back on the screen. “I got landed with an okay role—Nick Bottom, you know—and don’t really have to do much except run around screaming murder at Puck. Christine’s Puck, by the way.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Jeremy has nothing to say to that. “Auditions were today?”

“Not really _auditions_ , per se. More like Mr. Reyes assigned roles to everyone according to his judgment.” Michael gave him a _look_ again. “You got tech.”

And Jeremy remembers the excuse he had blurted out for joining the play and suddenly, Michael’s _look_ made more sense. “I see,” he responded but unable to muster up anything beyond relief. He didn’t have to perform in front of people after all.

“Me and Christine tried to convince Mr. Reyes to give you at least a minor role but he refused.” Michael actually pauses the game and turned to Jeremy. “So. Tech.”

_What do you want me to say?_

“It’s…okay, I guess?” Jeremy mumbles out, messing with the controller. “At least I still get to do something.”

A hard beat of silence encompassed the room. Not even the 8-bit music managed to lift it up.

“Why did you actually want to sign up for the play, Jeremy?”

 _Panicking_. Jeremy was panicking. “I-I don’t— I told you I w-wanted to tr-try something else.”

“Okay, so, let’s say you did,” Michael was in his serious mode. _Michael is in his serious mode, God, what did Jeremy do now?_ “But I’m not the one who left in the middle of it without telling my best friend who, might I add, dislikes the very idea of _doing thing that weren’t discussed beforehand_. I’m just- I was just so _worried_ when you suddenly weren’t _there_ and Jenna-fucking-Rolan had to be the one to tell me!”

“I-” Jeremy stutters, swallowing down the jealousy and anger­— _you would have noticed if you weren’t so into Christine_ —getting choked up instead by guilt and the _it’smyfaultit’smyfaultI’msuchafuckupI’msorry_ that threatened to burst out of his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

Something must have alerted Michael because suddenly, the tanned boy deflated. “I know.”

But the pit in Jeremy’s stomach grew, every swallow filling it with heaviness of the mounting negativity. “I’m sorry. I- I just- I can’t—” Jeremy was barely aware that he has devolved into nearly incoherent babble.

“Hey, hey, shit, I’m not angry, Jeremy.”

Even though he was unaware of what he is saying, Jeremy still felt it when Michael leaned over to him, gently wrapping an arm around his shoulder and running a hand through his hair in soothing motions.

“Deep breaths, please, Jeremy. In for four, out for four. C’mon. Breathe with me.” Jeremy did as told, muscles wound too tight to escape from the touch. “No one’s angry at you, Jeremy.”

The arm that had held him tensed and pulled him to lean over Michael. Subconsciously, Jeremy nuzzled into the familiar scent of the hoodie. His eyes closed in its own volition and Jeremy basked in the subtle warmth of _Michael_.

Almost on its own, as Jeremy calmed down, his hands snaked over and grasped at the bunched fabric.

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy’s voice came out muffled but he made no move to make it be heard better. He was overcome by the sheer _adoration_ he has for this boy. This boy who has endured the shit Jeremy dragged him through. This boy who _had been Jeremy’s everything when nothing and no one else would._

_I love you._

_But I know you don’t._

“Y-you’re my favorite person, Michael.”

The arm around him tightened and Jeremy swore a light kiss was pressed to his forehead. But he knew that was just something his mind made up.

_I love you._

_You have no idea how much I love you._

Jeremy realized that the growing pit in his stomach is dread. The same one before his mom and dad got into the fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... are you seeing what I am trying for you to see????
> 
> THANK YOU EVERYONE OH MY GOD 29 KUDOS WITHIN THE WEEK AND ONLY 2 CHAPTERS!!!!! You guys are the best! <3 <3 <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I... actually have no idea what this is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I bought tic tacs from Japan. Too bad there wasn't any wintergreen tho so it's a generic orange.
> 
> Anways! USJ IS BEAUTIFUL and I'm gonna stop there coz this is the wrong fandom to gush over THAT. But I am so tired of all the walking and getting lost at fucking train stations.

Jeremy sat alone in the dark, shoulders stooped down so that his chest rests on slightly bent knees. His hands fiddled with the covers that lay slightly bunched around him.

Michael had gone home a few hours ago. Usually, Friday nights were spent at one or the other’s house but Michael’s family had an outing scheduled that weekend, leaving Jeremy without anything to do.

The digital clock on his bedside table obnoxiously displays the time.

_2:38 AM_

He should have gone to sleep by now. And though his mind and body were tired from all the jumping into many different emotions earlier, he just couldn’t muster up the will to lie down and sleep.

Jeremy figures he should clean up their mess if he couldn’t bring himself to sleep. Be productive for a bit. Or, you know, actually change into pajamas. The jeans he had on was probably two days old—maybe more—and had long since started irritating his skin with its coarse material.

But his body, tired as it is, refused to move.

His mind though, was another thing entirely.

It had latched on to the usual things he ruminated on—

 _It’s not your fault, it’s just- I can’t handle this-_ you _\- anymore_ — _Jeremy you fucked up again!_ — _Am I really that undesirable—you should leave—I will—YOU CAN’T JUST KEEP ON BLAMING THIS ON ME_ —

—but was made heavier by something else. _Guiltsorrowanger_ was familiar. Whatever _this_ is felt as alien as using a different console; changed up but still kind of familiar though he never quite knew how to control it. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. The more he thought on it, the more he felt like drowning.

It… wasn’t a recent development. He’d felt it growing worse and worse, more so when his mother—

_No._

Michael’s presence had made it possible for him to put _it_ at the back of his mind. Which—probably—was the reason why he had been especially clingy and possessive. A world without Michael was just like _this_ ; silent, dark, oppressive, and all the other adjectives available to describe his room. It was a great time for his mind to play around with him.

And maybe being in love with the other boy didn’t help at all.

And maybe Jeremy was just great at making himself look at the more positive points. Note the sarcasm.

It had been a long time since he’d last seen Michael so… _unsure_ of himself. Jeremy didn’t know what would have brought on Michael’s interest on the squip.

And, _hah_ , a supercomputer pill that would apparently help you achieve previously unattainable goals? That sounded more Jeremy’s alley than Michael’s. It sounded like a scam yet too elaborate to be immediately concluded as fake.

“ _Rich said he had a contact at a Payless—pssh, c’mon,Payless!—for this thing. Apparently, he took it freshman year and now he’s totally different. Which, actually, made a bit of sense because I cannot remember Rich Goranski before junior year, at all. That could mean something, yeah? Yeah._ ”

Even without it being said aloud, Michael wanted to try it. He’d never mentioned anything _too_ specific, which was a way of telling that Michael had decided on doing it.

And oh, who was Jeremy kidding?

He’d felt a sting of betrayal at that. Because Jeremy was _too much of a fuck up his only friend and love interest decided that it would be a good thing to try some sort of drug that would change him_.

It felt too much like being… _abandoned_. Changes never left any stone unturned.

But there was a chance it wouldn’t work.

There was a chance that this was just some elaborate prank Rich Goranski had cooked up to embarrass the school’s outcasts. And, best case scenario, this would be something Jeremy would think back to and curse himself for being so overdramatic and exaggerating.

Worst case scenario, Michael realizes how much of a burden Jeremy is and abandons him for better friends ~~(those without inappropriate feelings for him, too)~~.

A sudden chill in the air caused him to shiver and finally convinced him to pull the covers over him.

Either way, Jeremy knew he wouldn’t like whatever would come. But he’d still support Michael no matter what happens. It was Jeremy’s fault, after all, that he ever even considers _change_.

+++

The weekend came and went with little funfair.

Jeremy had actually gone and finished three days’ worth of homework for the lack of anything else to do. He and Michael texted each other but Jeremy’s replies weren’t always immediate—as it usually was; immediate, that is. The teenager still hadn’t quite worked himself back to his usual self.

Whenever he ventured out of his room—mostly for bathroom breaks and the subsequent need to drink water—his dad remained passed out on the couch, empty cans of beer scattered over the coffee table. Jeremy barely spared him a frown anymore, too exhausted to even muster up the anger that itched at the back of his mind.

 _It’s unfair_.

But life’s always been unfair. Having a father who didn’t _care_ shouldn’t be much too different. Jeremy had survived the past few months, anyway.

+++

Monday arrived with Jeremy strung higher than he usually was. He’s jittery and nearly jumps at anything remotely startling.

Michael couldn’t pick him up that morning and so Jeremy had to brave riding the bus. It was either that or walking to school, and Jeremy had no wish to arrive at school sweaty and flushed and disgusting.

He sat near the front with a few freshmen, hunched over his bag and restlessly tugging at its straps.

They were reasonably close to campus but Jeremy was starting to realize he should have just walked to school. The bus was loud and hot and moved far _too much_ for his already frayed nerves. He was pressed a little bit too close to whoever was sitting beside him.

It was _hell_.

This was precisely why he always asked Michael to pick him up.

But Michael had woken up late and couldn’t make his usual stop over at Jeremy’s without skipping out on his morning slush. And Jeremy knew how important that is, so he’d insisted on going on the bus. Jeremy had issues, sure, but so does Michael.

It wasn’t an I’ve-got-it-harder-than-you thing— _that would just be such an asshole-y thing to do_. They’d long since found their rhythm in dealing with it. Michael just doesn’t need to know how _off_ Jeremy had been these past few days.

Finally arriving at school and freeing himself of the stifling bus didn’t bring relief.

Seeing Michael casually leaning on his PT cruiser and sipping on a large cup of cherry slushy is.

“Michael!” Jeremy greets, nearly running over to where the other boy is.

Michael looks up and grins, pulling his headphones off of his ears. “Yo!”

Jeremy stops a few inches away, vibrating with the struggle of preventing himself from hugging Michael. _That’s a no no in school!_

But it seems Michael didn’t have that kind of thought stopping him because he reached over and slung an arm over Jeremy’s shoulder in a half hug. “I missed you, dude! The beach wasn’t nearly as fun without you.”

Jeremy felt his face heat up but laughed anyway because he’s been dealing with this for _years_ and he’d be pathetic if he couldn’t even _hide it_. “Y-yeah, missed you too, man.”

Just then, the school bell rang.

“Oh shit,” Michael muttered, “We gotta go! I can’t have another late, else they’ll call my mom.”

Jeremy snorted but followed in his _friend’s_ footsteps. “You’re the one with the car, how come you’re the one with many lates?”

“You’ve gotta enter with style, Jeremy.” Michael winks as he pulls his headphones back on. “ _Style_.”

“Of course,” Jeremy rolled his eyes. “I’ll catch you later?”

Michael was already at the end of the hallway but he turned and shouted his reply, “I’ve got a date!”

Jeremy froze.

_Date?_

_What?_

But then a student bumped into him and he was brought back to reality. With a mumbled sorry, Jeremy rushed through the hallways and into the classroom.

+++

 ** _Sent [8:59 AM]  
_** A date? With who? :>

 ** _Received [9:27 AM]  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** secret ;))))  
**_I’m Player ONE!!:_** nah kidding  
****_I’m Player ONE!!:_ its for you know what with you know who

 ** _Sent [10:30 AM]_**  
OH THAT  
okay  
tell me how it goes  
c:

 ** _Sent [10:54 AM]_**  
what time is that btw

 ** _Received [11:13 AM]  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** ill tell u at lunch

 ** _Sent [1:26 PM]_**  
Michael?

 ** _Sent [1:48 PM]_**  
How’d it go? U didn’t come at lunch

 ** _Received [2:57 PM]  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** .

 ** _Sent [3:00 PM]_**  
Michael?  
Man  
Dude  
We don’t have play rehearsal, do we?

 ** _Received [4:15 PM]  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** !!! sorry!!!11! my phone died  
****_I’m Player ONE!!:_ no theres no rehearsal today  
_I’m Player ONE!!:_ also I had to go home early

 ** _Sent [4:16 PM]_**  
WHAT  
WHY  
are you okay????  
do u want me to go????

 ** _Received [4:23 PM]_**  
**_I’m Player ONE!!:_** nah man im okay. Just a migraine  
**_I’m Player ONE!!:_**  i took meds already

 ** _Sent [4:23 PM]  
_** if you’re sure…

 ** _Received [4:25 PM]  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** yup. But anyway. U know the squip right

 ** _Sent [4:29 PM]  
_** yehh how’d that go>

 ** _Received [4:30 PM]  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** turned out its legit!!! i now have a complete rip-off of Michael Jackson telling me how to do stuff properly!!

 ** _Saved as Draft [4:30 PM]_**  
I see  
u din tajave to tou know  
u sontbmeed it  
asdfjakljgrakejrgb

**_[Drafts Deleted]_ **

_Sent [5:12 PM]_  
sorry i was cleaning my room  
that’s good!!

 ** _Received [5:14 PM]  
I’m Player ONE!!: _** its np  
****_I’m Player ONE!!:_ yeh it is!! i mean its a bit iffy on the net but its not bad

 ** _Received [6:09 PM]  
I’m Player ONE!!: _** wait gtg Michael squipsons pestering me to clean up

 ** _Sent [6:29 PM]  
_** well, it’s not wrong

 ** _Received [8:01 PM]  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** 1\. i feel attacked  
**_I’m Player ONE!!:_** 2\. u all don’t appreciate my organized mess  
_**I’m Player ONE!!:** _ 3\. squipson says thanks for backing it up

+++

The next morning, Jeremy’s limbs felt a bit too heavy to move. He’d stayed up late because of ~~stomach pains— _a terrible, terrible excuse—_~~ his own mind being so fucking anal and had only fallen to exhausted sleep an hour before he had to wake up.

But.

It was a school day and while it was probably alright for him to skip school, he wanted to talk with Michael about that stupid squip.

Jeremy slugged through his morning routine, nearly mistaking his shampoo for the toothpaste. By the time he was done putting some clothes on, it was half past seven. Weird that he hadn’t heard from Michael yet.

He checked his phone and, yep, no text from Michael.

 ** _Sent [7:38 AM]_**  
Michael where are u???  
we’re going to be late

 ** _Received [7:38 AM]  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** SHIT  
_**I’m Player ONE!!:**_ IM SO SORRY JEREMY

_What?_

Jeremy frowned before hastily typing his reply. Being late wasn’t an issue for him but Michael had an accumulated record of lates and cutting classes that would sooner rather than later have him suspended.

 ** _Sent [7:39 AM]  
_** It’s okay?? Just be here it’s late

 ** _Received [7:39 AM]_**  
**_I’m Player ONE!!:_** THAT’S JUST IT ** _  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** I ** _  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** IM AT SCHOOL NOW IM SORRY  
**_I’m Player ONE!!:_** CHRISTINE WANTED US TO PRACTICE LINES  
****_I’m Player ONE!!:_ IM SO SORRY I FORGOT TO TELL YOU

Jeremy wasn’t sure, _exactly,_ how he felt but his fingers easily typed up a reply for him. ~~Him and Michael never forgot to tell each other _anything_.~~

 ** _Sent [7:40 AM]_**  
oh its okay  
tho u should have sed so earlier

 ** _Received [7:40 AM]  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** ITS NOT OKAY ** _  
I’m Player ONE!!:_** ILL JUST _  
**I’m Player ONE!!:**_ PICK U UP NOW. YEH ILL GO

 ** _Sent [7:41 AM]_**  
no  
theres no need mich  
ull only end up late ill be fine  
unlike u I hav a relatively clean record  
haha

Jeremy shut his phone off, unwilling to see anymore.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, hand gripping tightly at his phone. He did his best to keep his mind blank, feeling as if he needed to block everything out, or else his effort at keeping himself together for the past few days would be futile.

_Pathetic._

Jeremy knew he had to be blowing things out of proportion but no amount of reasoning stopped his brain from creating the most unlikely and ridiculous thoughts.

The school was a thirty-minute walk and the bus was already long gone. Jeremy glanced at his clock, slowly blinking at the numbers.

_8:26 AM_

Huh.

Slowly, his control over his body returned and he shuffled over to the bed. He blearily stared at his phone before switching it back on. It was stupid to turn it off in the first place. He was acting like a child.

As soon as it had booted up, notifications popped up for a good few seconds, majority of which are text messages.

 **_Missed Call (12)  
_ ** _I’m Player ONE!!_

The messages are almost all the same. Repeated apologies and babble. Jeremy felt a smile tug at his lips though it rang hollow.

 ** _Sent [8:33 AM]_**  
it’s okay michael  
I don’t think I feel up to going to school anyway  
been feeling a bit under the weather lately  
dad’s with me

The last part was a lie but he didn’t want Michael to worry more than he already does. And it wasn’t Michael’s fault or anything, it was just Jeremy’s anxiety playing games with him again. Though he hoped that this would be a one time thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all of you guys!!! And yeh, I srsly have no idea what happened in this chapter... it just went on and wrote itself


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't get your hopes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! I should be sleeping (it's 1 AM here!) but I drank coffee a while ago and I still don't want to sleep so I decided to finish this chapter!!!! 
> 
> Hope u enjoyyyy!! :))))
> 
> Please tell me if I'm going overboard with something. As I said before, I am emotionally constipated and therefore have to objectively figure things out from what I /have/ experienced (w/c is very limited actually).
> 
> Still UnEdItEd!

+++

Turns out, not going to school was a brilliant idea.

Jeremy had spent an entire hour on the verge of vomiting after eating a family sized bag of nachos. For a moment, he thought the chips were expired but as soon as the thought entered his mind, he nearly slapped himself on his stupidity. His dad brought home the nachos just last week and they still tasted good and were still crispy.

So really, it’s more the fact that he can’t remember the last thing he ate before that as a comparison that should have alerted him.

His dad was out doing God knows what—maybe with pants, maybe without pants. So Jeremy was left alone in the house, sincerely hoping he still had a stock of antacids in the medicine cabinet.

He’d felt his phone vibrate numerous times since he’d locked down the house but was in too much discomfort to check on it.

His stomach rolled painfully and Jeremy’s breath hitched, feeling the nearly familiar burn around his chest. Okay, so this was totally his fault and he should have at least _tried_ to avoid going into old habits but it was kind of out of his hands despite this being his body. Because _fuck_ if he actually had control over his life.

It took a while for him to gather his bearings (meaning, he was actually able to _not_ feel like throwing up at every movement) but Jeremy couldn’t have scrabbled up from his hunched position faster than he probably should. He was a little wobbly on his feet and his stomach still felt as if there was something gnawing on his insides but he managed. He’d been there for too long if his aching knees were to judge.

The first thing he did was check the medicine cabinet for antacids— _thank God there were_ —and upon noticing the time— _3:38 PM_ —nearly dropped his phone in the toilet in his haste to retrieve it. And his hands were proving to be uncooperative at the moment.

Just as he suspected, Michael had flooded his notifications for the second time (would it be _second time_ if it was a gradual thing???) that day.

Jeremy opened the most recent message but—

“ _Jeremy!_ ”

_Oh._

Blinking slowly in shock, Jeremy’s attention slid from his phone over to the direction of the front door.

Rapid knocks told him that, _yes_ , there was someone at the front door.

“ _Jeremiah Heere! Open this damned door-_ shi—uh, sorry Mr. Heere. Wait, are you there, Mr. Heere? Could you please open the door?”

And oh fuck did they use _Jeremiah?_

Still a little bit in shock, Jeremy slowly walked— _not stumbled, obviously_ —out of the bathroom.

Rapid knocks came from the front the door again, this time notably impatient and incessant so Jeremy finally decided to make a noise, “Yeah, yeah!” though it came out rougher than he intended. The knocks stopped and Jeremy sighed.

He fumbled with the locks for a bit before opening it, already knowing who was on the other side.

“Woah dude you look like _shit_.” Was Michael’s greeting.

Jeremy gave a deadpan stare but self-consciously tugged at the sleeves of his sweater. He’d sweated quite a bit and he’d brushed a few tears from his eyes harsher than he should. The bags under his eyes are more pronounced—probably—and Jeremy knew he’s a lot paler than usual. “Thanks.”

“I’m just saying,” says Michael before switching into a more worried tone. “But seriously, dude, you look like you’re—”

“Sick?” Jeremy interrupted, uncharacteristically snappy now that his mind registered who it is he’s talking to. Not that it made any sense to him because _why the fuck would he be angry_. “I am.”

If Jeremy was actually looking at Michael, he’d have seen him rear back with a frown. “So, uh, where’s Mr. Heere?”

Without a pause, Jeremy responded with a short, “Out.” Then he turned around to shuffle inside, leaving Michael at the front door.

“I thought you said he was with you?”

This actually had Jeremy stop before shaking then nodding his head. “He was.” _Lie._ “He had to get some meds for me.”

“Oh,” was all Michael said. There was an awkward pause as Jeremy sat down on the couch—careful not to move around too much—but still not looking at Michael. “Are you- are you mad at me?”

And it was _that_ voice. The voice Jeremy never, _ever_ wanted to hear come from Michael again. It was filled with sadness, hesitance, _guilt_ and told everyone of Michael Mell’s insecurities. Jeremy had heard it many times, of course, and he hated _every single damned time he did_.

_You made him upset. Why do you keep on making everyone upset?_

~~But a small part of him was grateful because _that voice_ meant Michael hadn’t _changed_. That _this_ is still his Michael (with or without a squip because it was hard to believe that sort of thing). That he hadn’t been forgotten or abandoned or replaced.~~

“No!” Jeremy burst out, shaking his head violently and regretting it because it made him very dizzy but this was _Michael_ and he had to reassure the other teen that _he wasn’t mad it was just his mind playing games with him again_. “No! I’m not—I just- I don’t know. I haven’t- haven’t b-been feeling well lately.”

And just like that, Michael was beside him, not quite cuddling but _there_. That was when Jeremy felt that something was… _off_.

 “Do you want to tell me?”

Suddenly, Jeremy’s attention focused on picking at the hem of his shirt, uncomfortable for some reason and that is _wrong because this is Michael._ “It’s- it’s probably nothing—” Jeremy laughed slightly, “—just- I think I ate something bad. Been, uh, been trying to keep my guts in. ‘s why dad’s out buying stuff.”

Jeremy peered at Michael at the corner of his eyes, studying the other boy. He had a frown on his face with his head tilted to the side as if listening for something— _his squip?_ —and had his lips pursed as if wanting to say something but he decided he wouldn’t.

Michael had never held back saying what he wants. Not with Jeremy.

“Are you really… okay?”

 _No._ Jeremy wants to say but instead tried for a smile and lifted his face up to at least look at the direction of Michael. “I will be, I think.”

Michael doesn’t look convinced but he doesn’t press and Jeremy was grateful, enough that he actually looks Michael in the eyes this time.

“You’re not gonna ask about the SQUIP?”

Jeremy actually thinks hard on that, roots through his mind because _there was a fucking lot he wanted to ask_ but keeps on coming up blank. It was one of those situations where he’d thought and thought _and thought and thought_ of it _so hard_ that when the moment came, he just had _nothing_. There was nothing coherent, nothing he could voice out.

“Is—” Jeremy finally managed out, frustrated that he can’t think. “Is there something you have to tell me about it?”

Michael opens his mouth, an excited gleam in his eyes, but then abruptly closes it. “Nah, I don’t- I’ll tell you if I do.”

And Jeremy doesn’t know how Michael took his answer as because it was suddenly hard to read Michael. _That doesn’t fucking happen suddenly_.

 “Okay.”

Michael blinks. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy wanted to ask, _really ask_ , but his mind comes up blank, so he just smiles— _probably smiles_ —and nods. “Okay. You’ll just tell me if you think of something. Or if you need it.” Because it felt like asking it as a request would be leaving it too open.

A small grin stretched across Michael’s face. “Yeah! Two player game, right?”

Hesitantly, Jeremy reflected the grin, the usual fluttery feeling at hearing their almost-mantra slightly diminished by the sour taste at the back of his throat. “Two player game.”

+++

The next day, Michael came to pick him up and Jeremy still couldn’t remove the sense of something being _off_. Jeremy, of course, still hasn’t caught the grip back on his mind but had decided to play it off much harder than before. Maybe acting as if _nothing was wrong_ would make it go away. Whatever it is.

Upon sliding into the Pt Cruiser and its much familiar upholstery, Jeremy suddenly felt goosebumps rise over his arms.

It smelt like someone spilled a bottle of Old Spice into the leather. He only knew the smell because his dad liked using them and his mom liked it.

Jeremy’s nose twitched. “Uh, Michael?”

Of course, Michael was driving so his concentration stayed on the road but he did manage a, “Yeah?”

“Did you-” Jeremy hesitated a bit, unsure whether he should ask or not but decided that it was too damned _weird_ to pass. “Did you change your cologne or something?”

“Oh. You noticed that?”

“It’s a bit difficult not to.”

“I like the smell and, uh, the car’s smelled too much like weed.”

Jeremy frowns.

 _Michael hates Old Spice_.

+++

“Hey Michael!”

Jeremy broke his gaze from the floor and darted a look past Michael where _Christine Canigula_ stood in all her bubbly glory.

“Hey Christine!” greeted Michael and Jeremy refused to see his reaction, already knowing that he would have a smile especially made for her.

_No, stop. Don’t be always jealous._

But Jeremy still fell for it anyway. “Hi Christine.”

“Oh!” Christine blinked at him in surprise before grinning widely. “I didn’t see you there Jeremy. Hi!”

And if Jeremy were a better, non-jealous person, he would have thought that the way she had jumbled her words was cute. But the ugly, _ugly_ thing twisted it completely beyond recognition and the aggression that snaked its way up his throat was swallowed, once more, by heavy guilt. It’s still there, Jeremy knew that much.

Jeremy smiled awkwardly, “Yeah.” Because what else can he say?

But her attention was drawn back to Michael who had started up a conversation about one artist or the other. Jeremy didn’t really keep enough track to know, too absorbed by the warring guilt and jealousy and anger and _holy shit, get a grip you ass_.

So he kept watch, forgotten in the sideline as the other two conversed and laughed and argued and teased until the bell rang. It quickly started to feel like a barrier just came up and he was actually just watching from a television.

“See you later, Michael!”

“See ya!”

And they were off.

It wasn’t a minute later that Jeremy realized _Michael_ left without saying a word to him.

_See, even Michael can forget about you. Now that he can talk to Christine, he doesn’t need you anymore._

Jeremy tugged the straps of his bag hard and ducked his head low.

+++

Lunch was a dreary affair.

Jeremy sat alone at the table, picking at the soggy breadcrumbs of the unidentifiable soup they served at the cafeteria. He’d resolved to consciously try to eat something but his appetite just wasn’t there.

It was only a few minutes before the end of their break but he hadn’t even eaten half of it.

He sighed and hesitantly swept a glance over the student body and briefly stopped _there_ before pointedly staring back at his soup.

Michael _sat with other people_.

More importantly, Michael was _having conversations with Rich Goranski._

With Christine, he could understand, but _Richard Goranski_ ; as in the one who bullied Michael the most (even though it never got out of line, whatever the definition of that is). It was… hard to believe. Maybe it was a squip thing? Michael had mentioned Rich a couple of times in his narrative.

Not that Jeremy should be _this_ concerned over who Michael chose to sit with during lunch.

Soon enough, lunch was done and Jeremy carelessly dumped the rest of his soup in the trash.

+++

It was when classes were over that Jeremy finally decided they had to address _what the fuck is going on_. He and Michael don’t have any classes together— _like, at all, which had had Jeremy’s anxiety acting up so badly_ —and so he couldn’t actually talk to him other than during their lunch breaks and dismissal time.

Jeremy was angry and very, _very_ jittery and frustrated by the time he found Michael.

“Jeremy?” The _fucker_ had the _gall_ to be _surprised_. “Dude, why are you frowning?”

“ _What. The. Fuck Michael_.” And it was days (and probably weeks, _years_ ) of raw _emotion_ that powered Jeremy through. “You’ve been ignoring me the whole day!” He wanted to say more but he held his tongue, years of being so well-versed with each other controlling him into _not_ overwhelming Michael with his own anger.

“I-” Michael’s face contorted into a frown, equally well-versed in Jeremy’s own sensitivity to emotions. Jeremy never, _ever_ cussed verbally unless swallowed into the void of emotion. “I have?”

“Yes!” Jeremy nearly stomped his foot, nearly waved his hands around to prove his point but restrained himself.

Michael’s frown deepened before he blinked, as if realizing something— _as if his squip said something_ —and replied, “Is this because I was with Christine?”

 _Yes!_ but at the same time _No!_

Jeremy opened his mouth to answer but just as quickly shut it. He shook his head, feeling as if Michael was not exactly seeing his point and _Jeremy_ didn’t see his point. It was confusing and frustrating and the anger was slowly bleeding out of him as his mind foggily tried to work through it.

“Look, Jeremy, I’ve been-” Michael took a quick breath, seemingly drawing some sort of strength. “-you know I’ve wanted to be able to talk to other people without being on the verge of panic attacks. And- and this is it, man. The SQUIP’s telling me what to say, what not to say, and I don’t have to worry about acting _weird_. I just have to listen and you know. And this is really draining on my energy because I’m not used, _at all_ , to interacting with people this much even without being _so conscious_ about it.”

Just like that, what was left of Jeremy’s anger flooded out, leaving him feeling like a _horrible_ friend.

_Not everything should be about you, Jeremy._

Michael’s got his own issues to deal with and now he actually has the opportunity to _fix it_ and Jeremy’s selfishness was going to _get in the way_.

So Jeremy will do what a good _friend_ will do and let it go. “Y-yeah, I—”

“ _But_ ,” Michael cut him off, his face contrite. “It was also wrong of me to ignore you. I really am very sorry.”

Jeremy smiled, feeling relieved because _Michael hadn’t been intending it after all_. “It’s, uh, it’s okay? I’m sorry I’ve been very weird lately and I shouldn’t be like this when you are finally having-learning-uhh, getting what you wanted. I’m just _so selfish_ —”

Suddenly, Michael’s hands covered his mouth and cut him off mid sentence, “ _Stop, stopstopstop_ it right there Heere. You are. Not. Selfish. I mean, yeah, sometimes you can be a douche about stuff, but you don’t get to beat yourself up about it. No one should beat themselves up about themselves. Okay that sounded weird. But you get what I’m saying?”

Warmth spread throughout Jeremy’s body, the feeling of butterflies in his stomach nearly putting him to tears because _fuck how can Michael be real and his friend_.

Then, as if burnt, Michael pulls back but Jeremy barely registers it.

“Thank you.”

Michael snorts and Jeremy somehow found _that_ endearing. “C’mon idiot, we’ve still got a level to beat!”

"Level 9?"

" _Level 9!_ "

As they drove to Michael’s house, Jeremy couldn’t help but feel lighter. Maybe he _had_ just been over thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAH! You don't even know what you're asking me to confess~
> 
> Again, please tell me if I have to tone things down, okay? This is a learning experience for me coz I'm more used to writing psychotic characters than anxiety-driven gays.
> 
> Anyways! THANKS GUYSSS <3 <3 <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It starts here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp* what do you mean it's the sixth chapter??? It's only the beginning! *cackles*

That light feeling quickly faded away.

It… Jeremy really should have expected it in _some_ way. The signs had been there, clear as day. Even the small _(loud)_ voice in his head knew to expect it. But somehow, Jeremy had managed to ignore them all—something he had never had the experience of succeeding in.

It figures that the one time he manages that, it was for something like this.

Because now, whenever he is with Michael, there seems to be a barrier dividing them. In the case that they _do_ hang out. And they barely do anymore.

The thing about this is whenever Jeremy looks at Michael, the other boy is honestly, _genuinely_ happy. Michael had more friends now, a mere _week_ after taking the SQUIP. Where did that leave Jeremy?

_Jeremy who has attachment issues. Jeremy who is too awkward for other people. Jeremy who is nothing but a burden to everyone he lov—_

Jeremy wanted to scream.

But he didn’t— _couldn’t—_ because that was awfully stupid and childish and completely irrational.

_You want to know why this is happening?_

No. _Nononono—_

Jeremy let his head fall into the table with as much force as he can. The resulting pain that lanced through his head made him grunt.

“Mr. Heere, is there something you wish to share to the class?”

The teenager in question didn’t react, merely remained still in his seat. Not that he could answer because he had hit his head much _harder_ than he should and is now suffering from dizziness. Painful it may be, but it was the best way to shut his thoughts up. Though maybe he should have pulled that punch because he was _fairly_ sure his ears aren’t supposed to be ringing.

“Mr. Heere! I asked you a question.”

Vaguely, he felt someone brush a hand near his neck (not really enough to be touching but enough to have made him uncomfortable) before whoever it was pulled away.

“He has a fever,” Someone off to the front said. “I’ll take him to the nurse.”

There was a murmur that swept across the room, making Jeremy wonder what the deal is but then the teacher stuttered out an “of course” and he was being pulled up by his elbow.

Jeremy didn’t want to move, feeling slightly nauseous, and went to voice it out but was cut off by a hissed whisper to his ear, “Just get up. I don’t want to be here longer than another minute.”

Finally raising his head and blearily blinking at whoever was supposed to be taking him somewhere, Jeremy had to force down a yelp as he came face to face with _Jenna Rolan_. Her eyes are narrowed into slits and her lips pinched down in a frown.

“C’mon shithead,” She hissed as her clawed nails continued to tug him up. “We’re getting you to the nurse.”

Intimidated and still confused, Jeremy stood up, nearly forgetting about his bag, and followed the gossip savvy out. Once in the hallway, she dropped his arm like a sack of hot potatoes and rounded at him with an annoyed look.

“So do you actually need to go to the nurse or can I leave you here?”

“No, I-” Jeremy took a deep breath, his head still pounding at the abuse it received. “I’m good.”

She hummed and pulled out her phone, spending a few seconds typing and typing and _typing_.

Jeremy watched, not knowing what just happened. After another minute or so of Jenna Rolan just _typing_ , Jeremy decided that he should _probably_ break the awkward silence. “Uh, m-maybe I-I should—”

“What’s up with you and headphones kid?”

A heartbeat. “Uh, what?”

Jenna Rolan sighed, made another set of texts, before locking her phone and turned a deadpan stare at the boy. “You and headphones kid. Tall, tan, wears glasses, anti-social—well, not so anti-social now—wears a poofy red hoodie, never takes off his headphones?”

“M-Michael?” Whatever she’s saying still isn’t clicking in his mind ~~(he doesn’t want it to)~~.

“Look, I don’t know and I don’t care what his name is,” Jenna crosses her arms with a slight sneer. “But whatever’s going on with you two, it’s messing up with the entire school.”

“Wha-what?” Jeremy frowns. “H-how can that even happen?”

“ _You_ —I mean you two—are— _were_ —the outcasts,” Jenna explains, annoyed that she has to. “You are _nothing_ in this high school—not even the losers. And somehow, that friend of yours has been climbing up the social ladder like it didn’t _take time_ to construct it!”

Jeremy had stopped listening since the word ‘ _nothing’_ had been uttered. It brought up too many thoughts, too many _memories_ that he didn’t want to remember.

“I meant no offense,” Jenna suddenly said louder than her voice before, “so don’t take offense on that, _God_.”

“W-well, I-I don’t know?” Jeremy’s hand went up to tug at his hair, feeling on edge and deeply unsettled by Jenna Rolan singling him out like this. “Exactly what you mean. M-Mich-Michael’s okay, I’m okay? I’m not s-sure what you want me to say.”

Jenna glared hard at him and Jeremy stood still and tense, barely resisting the urge to run and hide. Then she let out an explosive sigh before turning her phone back on, seemingly losing interest.

Jeremy started fidgeting in place, unsure whether he should go or not. There was no visible queue if he was dismissed from her presence or if she wanted him to crack and say something.

“So,” Jeremy cleared his throat. “Should I?” He gestured uncomfortably at the empty hallway.

For a second, Jenna didn’t seem to have heard him but a moment later, her head bobbed distractedly as she started walking away. “Oh yeah, there’s play rehearsal tomorrow. Everyone’s required to come,” were her parting words.

Jeremy stood there, confused as hell, and headache forgotten.

+++

He was still puzzling over the weird interaction when lunch came by. Though he’d soon brushed it off as something that didn’t really matter, it was one of the only things he could latch on to now. Unless he wanted to try to understand trigonometry—which he didn’t.

Sitting at the table, Jeremy absentmindedly traced patterns on the table with his eyes. He tried to maintain his preoccupation but it soon proved to be futile when he caught a glimpse of red and white at the corner of his peripheral.

 _Michael_.

Jeremy wished he didn’t know the reason why there’s a rift between them now. He wished—

He didn’t know what he wished.

Seeing Michael there, at a table with _Christine_ and _Madeline_ talking about something or the other made a terrible, _terrible_ ache in him.

What was worse is that Michael _never_ looked at him whenever he’s at that table. He’d caught Christine casting glances his way but nothing else. She didn’t approach him to invite him over, Michael didn’t spare him a glance, and Jeremy never pushed.

_It hurt._

It fucking _hurt_ that he was _left behind_.

Because that was what happened. Michael _left him behind._

And, _shit,_ this is probably Jeremy’s fault anyway. He’s too much of a _fucking handful_. No one can stand him. Not his mom, not his dad, _not Michael_.

_You screw everything up, Jeremy. It’s why she left, didn’t she? You heard what they scream at each other every single night. Why else wouldn’t your dad care about you anymore? Michael’s just the same—_

Jeremy blinked and looked away, unable to stand longingly watching from across the room once again.

He caught the eyes of Jenna Rolan from where she sat at the popular table.

She frowned at him and he shrugged.

His phone buzzed from where he’d put it on the table and went to see the new message.

 ** _Received [12:48 PM]  
Unknown Number:_** Stop looking so pathetic  

Jeremy glanced up from his phone to Jenna Rolan but she was already immersed in gossiping with Chloe Valentine and Brooke Lohst. He ducked his head down and stared at his phone for a bit.

 ** _Sent [12:50 PM]_**  
thanks =.=

+++

Jeremy was _not_ looking forward to the afterschool play rehearsal at all.

First of all, he didn’t even want to be there. Second of all, the _actual reason_ he joined didn’t… well, didn’t even _care_ about it anymore. So for all intents and purposes, Jeremy shouldn’t even attend because there was absolutely nothing tying his commitment there except for his shakily written name in the sign-up sheet.

 _But_.

Jenna Rolan had been the one to tell him that there was play rehearsal. And Jeremy was still a bit— _a lot_ —intimidated by the gossip queen of Middleborough High. She’d even texted that morning to remind him. Which was entirely _confusing_ but there was no immediate threat and so Jeremy chose to just go with it.

So here he was in the auditorium, hidden backstage as he sorted through different props and costumes. The play, supposedly, is in a much more modern era than the original set though that hardly mattered because Jeremy soon realized that they cannot recycle any of these props when they’re all damaged beyond repair.

Being the only one in tech—apparently they were pretty short in casting but Jeremy was considered a no-show in the first meeting—meant that he was the only one backstage. Which also meant he’s the only one who will work on _everything_.

 _God_ , the costumes had to be better than the props. Jeremy only knew how to repair clothes, not make one.

He was suitably distracted by the manual labor and had actually started enjoying the adventures of opening mystery boxes/closets/cupboards until the door opened.

“Oh, hey Jeremy.”

Jeremy froze in the middle of carrying a box filled with plastic leaves. He didn’t need to turn to know who it is. “M-Michael. Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I’m tech too, remember?” his tone was too bright and friendly. It felt like a punch in the gut.

“Oh,” Jeremy had forgotten that. He started moving again and placed the box down. He made sure his back was turned to Michael, not sure if he can handle it yet. “Oh yeah.”

Michael walked over beside him and peered curiously in the box. “So what’re we doing?”

“W-we’re, uh,” Jeremy made a hasty retreat in the form of retrieving another box from the unopened pile. “Looking for anything we could use again.”

“Okay.”

They set to work in silence mainly because Jeremy was too wound tight to start any sort of conversation. He spies the looks Michael was giving him—that one that said he wanted to say something—but Jeremy continuously pretended not to notice it, instead immersing himself in his self-appointed task.

 At the rate they were going, they’d have finished the inventory before practice was done. And Jeremy can go home and lock himself up in his room again. He hated the silence but it wasn’t as if he had anywhere else to go to.

It was as Jeremy was checking over the last costume that Michael seemed to have had enough of the tension.

Jeremy saw it coming when Michael stopped what he was doing and had that serious look on his face. “Jeremy, I think we have to talk.”

“No.”

This response had Michael pause and frown. “What?”

“I said no.” Jeremy nearly threw the costume into the pile labeled ‘ _could still be used_ ’. “We don’t have to talk, Michael. I- I already know what you’re gonna say.” He tried- he _really_ tried not to let the hurt show. So he smiled, he laughed it off, though his words don’t settle well with his laugh.

For some reason, Michael grew angry—something that rarely ever happened. “Then what is it? What was I going to say?”

But Jeremy was slightly prepared with his words. “I’d rather not.”

“ _Putang ina!_ ” Michael burst out furiously. “Jeremy _ikaw yung_ — _you’re_ the one who’s avoiding me now!”

_Was I?_

“ _Fuck_ , no, I wasn’t!” Jeremy mirrored his anger, incredulous. _You’re the one who’s leaving me behind!_

“ _Edi bakit hindi_ –why won’t you answer my calls?! You never text back –y-you don’t hang out with me anymore!”

Jeremy stumbled back. His breaths were coming in short pants as what was being said slowly registered in his mind. Then the anger _burned_ so hot Jeremy was convinced he’d pass out any moment.

“I thought you were better—” but Jeremy cut himself off and instead went to get his things.

He left with neither of them saying anything to each other.

But one word echoed through Jeremy’s mind.

 _Liar_.

+++

As soon as he was home, Jeremy threw his phone hard enough for the screen to crack.

 _Michael was a liar_.

There was too much anger for him to reason out with himself.

But it would always, _always_ remain etched into his mind because it was Michael who didn’t answer his calls and text messages. It was Michael who was leaving him behind for his shiny new friends. It was _Michael Mell_ who doesn’t hang out with him anymore.

 _Michael fucking Mell_.

And it was probably bad to plant seeds of anger but it had had _days_ to incubate itself. It had festered without him knowing until it made itself known by _exploding_ and blowing things out of proportion. In hindsight, Jeremy could have handled it better, but he wasn’t known for his self-control.

It took hours to calm himself down enough not to be tempted to throw things around.

He’d give it until the weekend and he will maybe talk to Michael again. That was the reason he left without finishing his sentence.

+++

The opportunity never came.

It was as if Michael simply wasn’t _seeing_ him anymore.

Over the next few days, Jeremy had at least _tried_ to approach him but then Michael would act as if he _wasn’t there_. He’d tried calling Michael’s name by the lockers but nothing happens, he just garners attention from other students, but never Michael.

It was like…

 _Jeremy didn’t exist_.

And that—

Jeremy didn’t even know how to feel anymore.

Should he be angry? Sad? _Happy?_

Nothing seems to fit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Putang ina = a curse word to be taken in the context of "Bullshit" instead of the much closer translation "mother fucker"  
> Ikaw yung = "you're the one" in the context of "you're the one /at fault/" not "you're The One"  
> Edi bakit hindi = "then why not"
> 
> You see, in the last part, I got attacked by my short attention span and I was, like, a few sentences away from ending and I had to war with my body to stay still and had to make weird sounds to make myself focus on what I was writing. So it turned out that way. Sorry :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot. Plot. plotplotplotplot plot everywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEEeeeeyyyyy guys! Here's another chapter! Let's take a break from all those angggssst (◕▿◕✿)
> 
> Still uNbEtAeD and UnEdItEd

Sunday came with his father uncharacteristically asking him if he wanted to go outside.

As a response, Jeremy shrugged into the slice of bread he was nibbling on. He didn’t know if he wanted to spend time wallowing in his thoughts inside his room or wallow in his thoughts outside the house. It didn’t matter in the end, did it? _~~He’s still alone.~~_

His father seemed to take that as an affirmative. “Get ready, then. I’ll drop you off at the mall. I have me some appointment I gotta get to.”

There was a moment’s pause before Jeremy nodded and dropped the half-eaten piece of bread on his plate. Then he went up to his room quietly, steps deliberately slow, missing the worried look his dad sent him.

Changing into clothes more suitable for venturing outside, Jeremy decided to snatch his wallet in case he saw something he liked. He hadn’t been to the mall in ages and anyway, he needed new games. Majority of what he had are multi-player.

(Jeremy hadn’t touched the console in the past week. If it weren’t already obvious, the dry spell was uncommon and unheard of.)

By the time he’s ready, his father was waiting for him at the front door.

“Ready?”

Jeremy blinked then nodded. “I guess.”

The drive was silent. His father didn’t try to start awkward small talk and neither did Jeremy. For that, he was thankful. Jeremy didn’t know how he would fair in casual conversations; he doesn’t exactly have anyone to do that with anymore.

So he settled for watching the scenery go by, tapping his fingers in time with an unheard beat.

“Here we are.”

That was fast.

One look confirmed that yes, they were parked at the drop-off zone of the mall.

Jeremy takes a moment to stare outside, nearly cringing at the amount of people. It was the weekend, _of course_ there would be many people. On second thought, maybe he should have just stayed at home. But one look at his father’s direction had his words die at his throat. The man had gone through the trouble of driving him there.

With a deep breath, Jeremy places his hand on the handle-knob-thingy, not really intent on going outside the sanctuary of the car but having to.

“Jeremy.”

The aforementioned boy paused to turn his attention to his father, tilting his head in a ‘ _go ahead_ ’ motion. The past months were not great in building up the method of communication to each other.

Mr. Heere opened his mouth—the creases on his forehead making him look serious—but closed it again. There was a beat of awkward silence before the man inhaled deeply and gave a hesitant smile. “You know you can always come to me if you have problems.”

Jeremy just stared at him, slightly dumbfounded, before getting a hold of himself and ducking his head. “I guess.”

Because Jeremy _wanted to but he can’t_. The months _and months_ of silence did nothing for him— _for them both_. It was like his dad left with his mom, leaving _this husk_ that pretended to be his dad but failing in that simple task.

Jeremy didn’t think he could talk to someone like that. Not with all the anger and sorrow and guilt and _hatred and envy_ that festered too deeply in himself. Not with someone he hasn’t _trusted_ for a while.

His father took another moment to churn through his thoughts before nodding. “I think- I think that’s alright.”

“Yeah, uh,” Jeremy pinched at the rough fabric of his jeans. “Can I go now?”

“Yeah,” Mr. Heere’s voice wavered slightly. “Take- take care.”

Jeremy didn’t know what to answer so he just nodded and murmured a “Thanks,” before getting out of the car.

His father idled for a few more seconds and Jeremy watched as the window rolled down. “I’ll text you later!”

“Okay,” The boy responded dutifully. “Bye.”

And then he drove off.

Jeremy spent a long moment getting himself together, seriously thrown off by the interaction. Once off the verge of falling into the trap of rapid heartbeat and breathing, he checked the time to gauge out how long he had to endure being in the mall.

His father never said what time he was finishing that appointment but Jeremy guessed he had a few hours to spend in hell.

On cue, someone bumped into him—something that was just unlikely to happen _because the sidewalk was spacious_.

Why did he decide going to the mall was a great idea?

+++

Jeremy spent a lot of time in the game store, merely browsing through the different titles and inwardly gushing about the newest consoles. (Often, he would turn around to discuss his excitement only to remember that _no one was there_.)

He’d ended up buying a new game for the GameCube— _Tales of Symphonia_ because he ~~had always wanted one but it was a single player~~ thought the graphics were cute—and a pouch with Pac-man prints that was on sale that he didn’t quite know what to use for.

(The game store used to be one of _their_ frequent haunts. _They’d_ spent hours wiling away getting _their_ greasy fingers on the plastic cases as _their_ parents went to do errands.)

He would have gladly spent all his time there if it weren’t for the store’s small area. It was a little too cramped and an hour was more than enough time for the walls to start feeling like they were closing in. Thank God there were no customers there despite how busy the mall is.

So with that done, Jeremy had no idea what to do next.

A check on the time proved that it was bit too early for lunch- _which_ probably means there would be less people in the food court. Scanning the crowd of faceless people, Jeremy determined that hiding away for now would be better.

He scuttled his way across the torrent of people and speed-walked to the food court, easily securing himself a clean table. He was right, there were less people there.

Now his problem involved what to do.

He could use his phone and scroll through the internet but he wasn’t in the mood to stare at the screen for an unknown amount of time. And the mall’s wifi sucked, probably worse now that there are so many people around. But then there’s nothing else to do because he hadn’t brought anything but his phone and wallet with him.

Jeremy could have grabbed his DS but realized he hasn’t charged it in a while and is probably on its deathbed by now.

Or maybe he _could_ just buy and eat something? Chili fries sounded good right about now.

Just as he was about to get up and head to the stall that sold his craving, his eyes caught sight of—

 _Nope_.

_No way._

_Not today._

There’s no fucking way _he’s_ here at this exact same moment.

Because there, near Sbarro’s, stood Michael _fucking_ Mell with—surprise surprise!—Christine Canigula and _Jake Dillinger_. Now, the last one was a surprise, but Jeremy couldn’t deny the ~~anger~~ ~~indigence~~ _satisfaction_ at seeing the two boys glaring hard at each other atop Christine’s oblivious head.

From what Jeremy had heard from the grapevine— _Jenna Rolan herself_ —Jake had fumbled his way into Christine’s affections much as Michael had—and Jeremy hadn’t imagined the vehemence in Jenna’s voice as she endlessly talked about it, slowly but surely twisting the piece of gossip into something that was only slightly recognizable. Somehow, it was Christine’s innocence in the matter that survived the _modifying_.

And he was totally deflecting but who was there to hear his thoughts?

_No one. ~~Not even Michael~~_ ~~. ~~

Perhaps not so suddenly, Jeremy decided he didn’t want to be _there_ and instead turned around to leave. He’d only realized he was in a bathroom when he was staring at himself in the mirror, face flushed and angry and _absolutely trembling_.

He thought he was done. _He thought he was fucking done with this_.

What was wrong with him?

Michael had obviously chosen to _throw Jeremy away_. And Jeremy couldn’t- _wouldn’t_ do anything about it. So what if he had feelings for Michael? Michael didn’t care and that was all that matters. Jeremy had long ago decided to keep the ball in Michael’s court. And if Michael chose _this_ , then it was what Jeremy would roll with.

Jeremy stared at his shirt—a bunch of ‘ _pew pew pew’_ printed in Star Wars font that Michael had given him as a sort of gag gift last year—and tugged at it hard.

+++

Later, once Jeremy figured he had spent enough time staring at himself in the mirror—completely ignoring yet extremely conscious of how weird he might have appeared to the other people who went into the bathroom—he was back to square one on what to do.

His father still hasn’t texted him and Jeremy already bought what he thought he might need.

He and Jenna weren’t in that level of acquaintance where they could just randomly call each other. ~~And Michael wasn’t there to hang out with.~~ _And Michael wasn’t there to hang out with._

After seconds of deliberation, Jeremy had come to the conclusion that he, obviously, needed a distraction. Which was kind of what he had already been doing but this time, he might actually put conscious effort to it.

But since he doesn’t have any idea what he could do, Jeremy settled for roaming around the mall. A decision that proved okay since the crowd had started to thin. He just made sure to turn in a completely different direction every time he catches sight of a red hoodie.

It was in front of a Payless Shoe Source that he stopped, squinting as he saw Jenna Rolan browsing through shelves displaying ladies’ sneakers.

With only slight hesitance in his steps, Jeremy entered the store.

He felt like he was forgetting something—something he _should know_ —but he brushed it off, instead wondering why he had entered in the first place. He didn’t need new shoes. He also didn’t _exactly_ have anything to say to Jenna Rolan.

But, well, here he has something to do. Whatever it is he could do here.

Jenna might not even want to talk to him.

_Oh God, he was being a total creep about this, isn’t he?_

“Excu- oh, it’s you.”

Jenna stood in front him with a bored expression, holding a pair of white canvas slip ons.

“Huh, uh, oh,” Jeremy smiled nervously. “It’s me?”

“What’re you doing here?” Jenna eyed him suspiciously, making Jeremy feel more nervous by the second.

Yup, Jenna didn’t want to see him there. “I- I was just looking around?”

She blinked and raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “In the ladies’ section?”

Jeremy looked around and, yeah, they _were_ in the ladies’ section. He hadn’t even realized he made a beeline towards her.

“Alright, you creepy-ass stalker,” Jenna sighed and put her hands on her hips. “What do you want?”

“I wasn’t stalking you!” Jeremy sputtered, red-face, but Jenna merely gave him a deadpan stare that caused him to deflate. “It’s- it’s nothing.” He didn’t even know what he wanted to say. Jenna wasn’t exactly a person you would come to in distress.

“Look, Heere, I wouldn’t want to be caught dead with you—” _Ouch_. “—but you obviously look like you’ve been crying. If you weren’t such a nobody, then everyone would know all about by now.”

That was actually weirdly reassuring if it wasn’t kind of offensive. But Jenna wasn’t one to hesitate in using social standings—she’d used that card every time she _could_ —and Jeremy found himself _actually getting used to it_. Which was also weird, but not weird enough to panic over.

“No, really, it’s nothing.” Jeremy tried a smile that seems to look vaguely like it if Jenna didn’t comment on it. But she still didn’t look like she wanted to drop the topic so Jeremy had to come up with something to distract her with. “Uh, I actually a-am looking fo-for shoes??”

“Try harder, loser.”

Really, Jeremy still didn’t know _why_ Jenna suddenly felt it to herself that talking with Jeremy was even a good idea. Yeah, they’re in the after school play together but Jenna was at the top of the food-chain! Jeremy was so far outside her radar it wasn’t even funny. (But then he remembers the pity in her eyes, the oddly teasing texts, and the surprising sympathy Jeremy had seen flash through her face before being covered by disdain.)

“I am!”

“Trying harder?”

“Ye- _No_. I meant – uh, I want to look for new shoes!”

“Let me guess,” Jenna rolls her eyes but still seems to not believe it. But her change in answer did mean she was going to let it go. “You want my help?”

Jeremy scratches his head. “Maybe?”

Again, she rolled her eyes. “ _Fine_. Let’s go.”

Jeremy nearly breathed out a sigh of relief. Jenna was an absolute _terror_ if she wanted to know something. Nothing escapes her notice. And the best bet of getting out of a mess she catches you on was to out-stubborn her. Or just be a loser she barely has interest in. _Whatever._

So they went to the men’s section and Jeremy went to grab the first thing that caught his eye. He’d never been one to spend time in picking shoes. As long as they’re comfortable, they’re cool. He still tries to keep it to neutral colors though; that way, he wouldn’t have issues looking _too_ uncoordinated.

Jenna eyed him and the shoes with a smirk. “Oh, you’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

Confused, Jeremy looked down on what he had in his hands and immediately put it back on the shelf. They were high-tops that looked almost like Michael’s.

Instead of getting embarrassed, like he normally would, Jeremy frowned heavily and pursed his lips. He wasn’t angry, not really. Sad, yes, maybe- the emotions had just mixed into something he couldn’t name. It made him feel like he wanted to throw up.

“You know what, Jeremy?” Jenna suddenly broke through his thoughts. And there was the sympathy in her eyes again. “ _Fuck them_.”

It only took a moment for him to realize that she was on the same page as he was. Jeremy snorts lightly, playing with the hem of his sleeves. “You would know.”

“I would.” It was only a little bit sarcastic but the weak smirk on Jenna’s lips told him enough. Then the moment was gone and she started walking to a different part of the store. “Now, don’t _ever_ wear Converse again. They’re uncreative. Slip ons are my go-to because I can do whatever I want with them. But I don’t know what you like.”

And so Jenna presented him with so many shoes that Jeremy was dizzy with colors by the time he settled for getting the same thing as she did, only in black. They were _comfortable_ and on the heavy side, which was something Jeremy liked.

“Well,” Jenna tilted her head to the side. “If you’re gonna get that, I don’t want to pay the same time as you. They’d think we’re a couple or something which, no offense, isn’t something I want to. I like you, but not enough to have _those_ kinds of rumors running around. So wait here ‘til I’m done.”

Jeremy picked at the price tag of the shoes. _$28.99_ is a bit expensive and it was a good thing he brought the money he received from his bar mitzvah. But he actually _did_ like the shoes so it wouldn’t be a waste. “Aren’t the rumors coming from you?”

Jenna rolls her eyes. “Of course not everything comes from me! I regulate and promote them, not create all of them.”

And she was gone.

Jeremy waited for a few minutes, tapping his fingers in an odd rhythm. When she came back, Jeremy stood up so that he could pay for his but she stopped him.

“I like you,” Jenna said, oddly serious. “Really, I do. We could have been friends.”

Jeremy frowns, feeling a slight dread in his stomach. “But?”

“For a loser, you are kind of fun, and you actually listen,” She continued on, being slightly shifty and uncomfortable. “But I can’t be seen publicly with you if you are like _that_. No one looks past what’s presented to them. Remember that, Heere.”

“I…see.” Jeremy did, honestly, but he still felt _rejected_. What was another person in the list, though?

Then she smiled, “I’m sorry.” With that, she left.

Feeling hollowed out, Jeremy shuffled over to the cashier, barely sparing a glance at the shady appearance of the man.

When Jeremy stopped in front of the counter, the man didn’t look up from he’s staring at. “Uh, excuse me.”

Finally, the man did. “It’s 400 dollars.”

“ _What?_ ” Jeremy blurted out, confused.

“I know what you want.” The man took a deep breath, sitting up his full height and intimidating Jeremy. “It’s a gray oblong pill, quantum nanotechnology CPU. The quantum computer in the pill will travel through your blood until it implants in your brain and it tells you what to do.”

Jeremy freezes in place.

 _The SQUIP_.

_So that’s what he forgot about Payless._

“Oh shit- you didn’t- forget all about that kid,” The man fumbled, still somehow looking intimidating. “So uh, shoes?”

“No, no, no, wait,” Jeremy found himself blurting out. “What is the SQUIP, exactly?”

“What are you talking about—”

“Uh, you were just talking about it earlier?”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were!”

“Look, kid, that thing’s bad business!”

Jeremy pauses before staring at the man incredulously. “But you’re selling it.”

The man stares at him for a moment, weirding Jeremy out despite the sunglasses the man wore.

“You know what, just take it!” The man shoves a box of ladies’ shoes at him that Jeremy fumbles to hold. “Drink it with green Mountain Dew to activate the computer. All sales are final and we are not liable for any damage it may cause.”

“Wha-”

“Just take that thing away from here, kid. I don’t care about the money anymore.”

“But—” Jeremy presents the man with the shoes he was holding.

“Right, uh, shoes, yes.”

The man rings it up and it was such a weird thing that happened that Jeremy was in a daze when he paid and left the store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I still didn't reach the supposed ending of chapter 5... how tf did that happen.  
> Did anyone see the Hamilton reference? （＾ｖ＾）that was totally unintentional.
> 
> Thanks for all of ur support!!! Ur kudos make me wanna finish this faster but my procrastinating ass doesn't want to and my short attention span just fucks it up （；^ω^）


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dad. Hey dad! It's kinda filler? But I like the characters guys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the intense notes at the end. I mean if u want to. ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^ )

The food court was significantly more crowded when he shuffled over in a daze, hand clenched tight at the paper bags obnoxiously branded with _‘Payless’_. They _are_ in separate paper bags even though one of them weighed next to nothing. He wasn’t _tactless_. Carrying a shoebox— _in a mall_ —without any sort of packaging was stupid and more than slightly suspicious.

Jeremy wasted no time sliding into a free seat—one that shared a wall table with more strangers than he liked—and shoving the heavier paper bag between his feet. The other paper bag—the one that contained the SQUIP- _The SQUIP_ , why the _fuck_ does he have one—is placed on the table where Jeremy could stare at it in bewilderment.

 _The SQUIP_.

A pill that resembles drugs no matter how people describe it.

A supercomputer that can and will make your life easier for you.

 _The shit Michael took so he could have the guts to leave Jeremy behind_.

It’s just…in there.

So far, it had been something Jeremy _knew of_ but never saw. Something he wasn’t even aware of until Michael mentioned it and _bought_ it—of course he bought it, Jeremy knew that, but _400 dollars?_ He had _never_ mentioned that—from Rich Goranski.

It was something Jeremy never blamed Michael’s actions on. Because _who the fuck blames a supercomputer for their own faults?_

And it’s just there, inside a completely normal ladies’ shoes packaging. (And Jeremy’s going to ignore the fact that it’s _a_ _pill_ inside a _shoebox_. He didn’t think it mattered in the long run.)

The SQUIP had been such an abstract idea for something that is at the front of Jeremy’s mind and he didn’t quite know how to react now that he had one. He hadn’t formed enough of an opinion to know what to do with it—should he throw it away? Should he pass it on to another person who probably needs it? Should he crush it and scatter the dust to the winds?

_Should he take it?_

Maybe in some other world, Jeremy would have latched on to the idea of _having a better life_ at the earliest given moment; would have taken the risk just to give himself some sort of relief in this hell. He still would, probably, if he wasn’t too much of a coward to do so.

Sure, at some point in his life, he wanted to become popular. But who doesn’t? By the time high school rolled around, being popular simply _isn’t_ a thing he wanted to achieve. He just wanted to survive until college. Well, all said, Jeremy didn’t want much. He had his mom, he had his dad, and he had Michael.

His mom took care of everything. She always made sure Jeremy was okay after school, made sure he was fine even though she had to stay at home instead of chasing her dreams up in some big shot company.

His dad was just… there. He supported Jeremy, supported his wife, made their little family complete even though there was a gaping hole Jeremy knew existed but didn’t know what.

And then there’s Michael. Michael is everything his mom and dad never managed to be. Jeremy didn’t know when his feelings for the other boy became not-so-platonic. It was just when he jokingly said ‘ _love ya_ _too_ ’ in the middle of teasing Michael that Jeremy realized he _meant_ those words.

_But they don’t want you anymore, do they?_

Mom left because she couldn’t take being a housewife anymore; divorced dad the moment it was presented. She never asked if Jeremy was okay with it and didn’t file anything for custody of Jeremy. She just… left.

Dad was so devastated by the divorce he never did anything but mope around the house. He barely went to work anymore, much less give any sort of attention to Jeremy.

Michael had been there for him when that happened, two cups of slushie in hand and a completely unrealistic conspiracy theory at the tip of his tongue. Then he’d let Jeremy cuddle close to him as they binge watched old episodes of shows they watched when they were kids.

Until Michael wasn’t there too.

_Where does that leave you?_

Jeremy jumped as his phone buzzed. Taking a deep breath, Jeremy forced his thoughts to go away. He’d deal with it later.

The person beside him was looking at him weirdly so Jeremy ducked his head down and pulled out his phone out of his back pocket. Swiping at the cracked screen, he opened the notification.

 ** _Received [2:38 PM]  
Dad:_** Got everything you need?

 ** _Sent [2:38 PM]_**  
Yeah

 ** _Received [2:41 PM]  
Dad:_** Oh good. Be there in half an hour.

 ** _Sent [2:42 PM]  
_** okay

 ** _Received [2:45 PM]  
Dad:_** see u

+++

 “So did you buy something nice?” was his father’s opening question as Jeremy slid into the car.

“Yeah…” Jeremy showed the bags and then shoved them at the back.

“Shoes huh?” Mr. Heere peered at them curiously. “Two pairs? Why didn’t you say you needed new ones? I could have given you money to buy them.”

“Er, uh, yeah,” Jeremy scrambled through his mind to find a non-awkward answer because those _weren’t_ two pairs of shoes. “They uh- they had it on sale. Two for one. And they were nice.” As a principle, Jeremy rarely lied so it was quite an achievement that he came up with that excuse. _That_ or he had so much practice lately. Which should probably be bad but it is working for him now.

“Oh,” His father put the car back into drive. “That’s good. Is the other one for Michael?”

Jeremy grew rigid and a glance to his father told him the man hadn’t noticed. It was in this moment that Jeremy remembered that only Jenna and Michael and probably Christine knew.

_Pathetic._

“It’s- uhm- y-yeah,” he stuttered. “I guess.” Because Jeremy was still completely conscious of the fact that there was only one pair of shoes. It was a good excuse as any if his father _did_ somehow remember this interaction.

“Speaking of that kid, I haven’t seen him in a while. He hasn’t been over this weekend either. Or the one before that.”

 _You noticed?_ Jeremy wanted to ask in incredulity and surprise but managed to bite it back and instead promptly focused his attention on the passing scenery.

“He’s been busy.” It came out of his mouth petulantly, as if he didn’t want to cry every time he even thinks about it; as if he wasn’t so angry and resigned all at the same time.

“Oh. I see. Well, I guess high school’s finally catching up on you two, huh.”

The rest of the ride was spent in awkward silence. Neither of the males quite knew what to say to lessen the tension so both had settled for it.

Then Jeremy remembered something.

“Hey dad?”

His father pulled his focus away from the traffic and turned to him. “Yeah?”

“Can we stop by at the store?”

“Sure. We gotta buy something for dinner anyway.”

+++

When they got home, his father stuffed the plastic bags filled with stuff they bought from the convenience store (not Seven Eleven, thankfully) into the refrigerator without organizing them in any way.

The man had forgotten that most of what they bought didn’t need to be refrigerated.

“Eat dinner whenever you want.” And then he was gone.

Jeremy stared at the doorway where his father exited through, feeling at a loss. The man had been trying before, hadn’t he? He’d asked questions, _normal_ questions. They’d _talked_ , something they hadn’t done in a long while. It had been awkward and stilted, mostly because Jeremy didn’t feel they _could_ , not yet. His dad still tried.

But seeing the opened cupboard that contained all the liquor of the house…

Jeremy opened the refrigerator and grabbed the bottle of Mountain Dew from the plastic bag.

Obviously, _trying_ wasn’t working out well.

Was it a good thing that Jeremy hadn’t hoped? It saved him from feeling worse but at the same time made him feel guilty that he believed his father was beyond getting better.

On the way to his room, Jeremy barely passed a glance to the living room, already knowing the state it would be in.

+++

 _The SQUIP_.

Jeremy stared at the small pill on his palm. It looked so much like a Wintergreen Tic-tac (shouldn’t it be gray?) that it was so hard to believe that this is a piece of advanced technology.

What was even in Mountain Dew that would activate this? Said drink lie gathering moisture on the bedside table, waiting for the decision Jeremy will make.

Should he take it?

Then he remembers Michael’s small grin, his mouth forming the words, _“Yeah! Two player game, right?”_

Jeremy covers a sob with a snort, “Two player game?”

Before he could change his mind, Jeremy popped the pill into his mouth, cracked open the bottle of green Mountain Dew, and drank it down.

_Fuck you too Michael._

Jeremy braced himself and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until a few minutes that seemed to go on forever passed.

Then a sharp pain behind his eyes shocked him into clenching his eyes shut.

“ ** _Calibration in process. Please excuse some mild discomfort._** ”

“Wh-what the hell?” Jeremy frantically looked around even as the pain nearly blinded him. The back of his neck pulsated with each wave of pain, accompanied by deafening drum beat in his ears.

“ ** _Calibration complete._**

 ** _Access procedure initiated_.** ”

The pain stopped and Jeremy nearly sighed in relief before it was back, nearly twice as intense that left his body convulsing. Tiny, sharp shocks not unlike lightning lit every single nerve he didn’t know existed.

“ ** _Discomfort level may increase._** ”

Jeremy was entirely unaware that he had been crying as the pain completely cut him off the feeling of his own body.

“ ** _Accessing: Neural Memory  
Accessing: Muscle Memory_**

 ** _Access procedure complete._** ”

And just like that, the feeling of being thrown back into his own body consumed his mind before Jeremy realized that he was trembling and sweating so much. At this point, Jeremy was so relieved that the pain stopped that he didn’t question the voice reverberating through his head.

“ ** _Jeremy Heere_**

**_Welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor_ **

**_Your S.Q.U.I.P._** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *****LET ME NOTE THIS DOWN. JEREMY BOTH BLAMES MICHAEL AND THE SQUIP BECAUSE HE DOESN’T WANT EVERYTHING TO FALL ON MICHAEL’S SHOULDERS. WE ALL KNOW HOW WRONG IT WOULD BE TO PUT THE BLAME ON MICHAEL; JEREMY DOESN’T BUT AT THE SAME TIME HE KIND OF KNOWS IT. SO HIS THOUGHTS WOULD OFTEN CONTRADICT AND SHIT.**   
>  ******ANOTHER THING! THE PART WITH THE FLASHBACK OF MICHAEL’S WORDS (it came from chapter 5 if anyone has forgotten) BEFORE JEREMY TAKES THE SQUIP: JEREMY SAYING “Two player game?” IS BECAUSE A PART OF HIM DID IT BECAUSE IT _IS_ A TWO PLAYER GAME AND THAT PART OF HIM THOUGHT MICHAEL WOULD SEE HIM AGAIN IF HE DOES TAKE THE SQUIP. But denial ain’t just a river in Egypt. Jer’s too angry and sad to admit it that not even a small voice in his head dares to say it. **
> 
>  
> 
> Well, that was long. lol. But I just wanted to put it out there. I kind of like explaining what I do in the fics I write but they take too much space and I feel like no one's going to care??? So, just ask me if u want me to explain aythin.
> 
> hmu at tumblr! [mongooseunderthewhompingwillow](https://mongooseunderthewhompingwillow.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> love y'all!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess what? Character building! Also, in which the title of the show is introduced ahhaha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am half-basing the SQUIP with Hannibal Lecter coz he's a character I worked with before (I wuuuvvv him and his conniving asshole-yness). The other half is from how Joe Iconis described the SQUIP as (from that totally awesome breakdown of the Act I!! Can't wait for Act II)

Jeremy lay in his bed still trembling from pain and the booming voice from earlier didn’t make another sound after introducing itself. It made him think that maybe he had just imagined the events from the last few minutes. Except he could still feel its effects.

The silence that settled over the room was deafening. Quiet enough that the stumbling thuds from outside the room could be heard clearly.

The door slammed open to reveal a panicked Mr. Heere.

“ _Jeremy!!_ ” The man nearly screamed as he ran over his son. “Are you okay? I heard screaming and I thought something happened. I mean are you okay? I don’t know what—”

“ ** _So this is the donor._** ”

Jeremy’s head whipped around so fast that he became dizzy. His eyes slid from his worried father to the figure that stood over them, electric blue eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

“What?” His mouth felt dry. “Who are you?”

Mr. Heere stopped from what he is doing and stared at his son. “Jeremy?”

“ ** _Clearly, you have been blessed by this man’s obliviousness._** ”

The figure eyed Mr. Heere’s bare legs before aiming its sharp gaze to the boy.

“ ** _Tell him that you’re fine, Jeremy. And please do refrain from addressing me like that in front of other people. I may seem corporeal to you but that is merely because I have access to your optical nerves._** ”

At Jeremy’s blank gaze, the figure sighed.

“ ** _I am in your head. Only you can see me. Now stop gaping and tell your father you’re fine before he decides to take you to a hospital._** ”

“—I know I haven’t been a great dad but you gotta tell me what’s wrong, Jeremy. You’re shaking and sweating and—”

Jeremy cut the man off, “I’m fine.”

Mr. Heere shut his mouth, clearly disbelieving.

“ ** _You have to be more believable_**.”

_Well how the hell was he supposed to do that?_

“ ** _Stop shaking, for one. The pain was necessary to gain access to your body’s systems._** ”

_Gee, how does one stop a completely involuntary reaction? Can you do it?_

Jeremy saw the figure roll its eyes before he felt his body go still— _unnaturally still, holy shit_ —and his mouth moved against his control.

“Really, I’m fine, dad,” It was disorienting to hear his own voice come from his mouth without thought. Yet every single intonation was correct, even managing to sound sheepish. Jeremy might even think he _was_ the one speaking, except he knew he wasn’t. “Just stubbed my toe and fell on the edge of the bed.”

Mr. Heere actually looked _convinced_. “Are you- are you sure? Your screams were pretty… intense.”

Jeremy’s cheeks suddenly flushed with heat and his head ducked down. “I-uh- it hit… down there.”

“ _Oh,_ ” His father sounded uncomfortable— _which Jeremy is, too_ —and the flushed cheeks became more authentic as Jeremy’s embarrassment won over the SQUIP’s control. “Do you, uh, need ice packs or something?”

“ _No!_ ” Jeremy covered his mouth, startled that it was _his_ words that came out of his mouth now instead of the SQUIP’s. “No I- I don’t need ice packs.”

“Okay then,” Mr. Heere even looked uncomfortable as he stood up. “You don’t need anything?”

Jeremy glanced at the figure which was shaking its head. “No I don’t need anything. You can- you can go back now.”

“Okay.” His father took a hesitant step, giving another worried look at Jeremy, before he left through the door.

Jeremy watched the door close.

“ ** _Thank you_**.”

“What?” Jeremy’s attention swiveled over to the figure that, now that Jeremy took the time to examine it, looked similar to Keanu Reeves. Weird but better than ~~Michael’s~~.

“ ** _You should have said thank you. The probability of your father trusting you—therefore, leaving you to your own devices—would have increased by 5% if you show gratitude in his worry towards your well-being._** ”

Unable to control himself, Jeremy snorted, “It’s not as if he c- _cares_ , anyway. And would you please stop talking like that? I mean could you? It hurts my head.”

“ _Of course. I apologize for the inconvenience. My features are still set in default. Do you also wish to change my appearance?_ ”

“Woah,” Jeremy blinked in astonishment as the SQUIP’s figure cycled through different faces, even managing a sexy anime female before _glitching(?)_ back to Keanu Reeves. “You could do that?”

“ _I’m a supercomputer, Jeremy. The question should be what I couldn’t do._ ”

“Keanu Reeves is fine—wait- waitwaitwaitwait—” Jeremy ignored the bored look in the SQUIP’s face. “You controlled my body earlier!”

The SQUIP sighed, “ _It consumes too much energy for it to be a problem, so do not worry._ ”

Jeremy eyed the figure suspiciously, “So you _won’t_ be able to control my body?”

“ _I certainly can but the control of your **entire** body would be tantamount to suicide. It is your body that won’t be able to handle it, not my processors. I believe that was your concern?_ ”

Jeremy nodded mutely, still trying to wrap his mind around the existence of the SQUIP. So he hadn’t actually known what to expect when he drank down the pill. Certainly not _this_. Jeremy had read of this before, something like hallucination?

“ _I am not a hallucination, Jeremy._ ”

Wait, it can hear his thoughts?

“ _Of course I can hear your thoughts. I **am** inside your brain. You seem to have lost your grasp in common sense._ ”

“Okaaay,” Jeremy dragged the word. “Creepy.”

A shock that ran down his spine startled Jeremy to let out a yelp and into a sitting position. He sent an accusing glare at the SQUIP.

It can shock him too? _Of fucking course it can_.

“ _Enough stalling. Now, I believe my presence here is to achieve an objective._ ” The SQUIP made its way in front of Jeremy, towering over the teenager.

“ ** _Jeremy Heere_**

 ** _What is my main objective?_** ”

“ _Jesus_ , stop it with that voice,” was all Jeremy could have said in that moment, swallowed by trepidation and fear as he is. The SQUIP looked menacing as it hovered over him.

“ ** _What is my main objective?_** ”

“ _I don’t know!_ ” Jeremy burst out. “You- you- couldn’t y-you look through my- my memories or something and tell me?”

Another shock ran through his spine. “ _Ow_ , what the hell?”

“ _Stop stuttering, it’s uncouth. And yes, I have scanned through your memories and determined what the most beneficial objective is, however; I require verbal confirmation in order to avoid conflicting commands._ ”

“We- well I don’t— _ow_ , stop that!” Jeremy rubbed at his lower back where a pulsating pain started to form. But then another shock had him sitting up straight. “What was _that_ for?!”

“ _Don’t slouch. Keeping a good posture now will decrease the probability of back problems once you reach a certain age._ ”

Jeremy made a face but kept his back straight, fearful of having another shock ran through his spine even as the pulsating on his lower back pestered.

“I really don’t know, okay?” Jeremy sighed. “Why don’t you tell me what you’ve—” Jeremy made air quotes, “—‘ _determined_ ’ as the ‘ _most beneficial objective_ ’.”

The SQUIP stilled so suddenly that Jeremy proceeded to stare at it. Just as he was starting to worry that the supercomputer was broken, it took a step backwards— _Jeremy made a sigh of relief_ —and its facial features morphed into something resembling… _softness_.

“ _You wish to...move on—such a plebian word—from your feelings for Michael Mell._ ” Its voice betrayed what its face expresses. “ _Basing on your previous actions, you have been attempting to do so but to no avail. I have come to the conclusion that should you accomplish this objective, it would leave you with an over-all positive image that would then gain you more friends._ _You would be more chill_.”

Jeremy stares down at the ground, hands furiously fiddling with the hem of his shirt as his heart skipped beats two at a time.

“ _Listen to me, Jeremy_ ,” The SQUIP called his attention and Jeremy reluctantly did so. “ _You don’t need Michael. He will only drag you down in the long run. He has his own SQUIP, he has his new friends. **You have me**_ **. _I will give you what you want and you won’t even have to think about Michael anymore._** ”

Something about the SQUIP’s words didn’t settle well with Jeremy.

“ _You know it to yourself, Jeremy. He doesn’t need you. I am sure you have noticed how he pretends not to see you anymore?_ ”

“Yeah…” How could Jeremy not notice when it’s all he could think of whenever he sees Michael?

“ _It’s called optic nerve blocking. A SQUIP can do many things that coincide with their host’s main objective. From what I have gathered, Michael asked his SQUIP to block you from his field of vision. **He doesn’t even want to see you.**_ ”

“Oh…” Jeremy didn’t know how to react. It made sense that it was the SQUIP which made literally seeing through Jeremy possible. “You can do it too?”

“ _Of course I can,_ ” It responded with a smug overtone. “ _Do you wish to use optic nerve blocking? It would certainly help with your main objective._ ”

“I don’t…think that would be a good idea?” Jeremy didn’t want to do what Michael did.

Another shock went up his spine. Jeremy yelped and glared at the SQUIP which was nonchalantly leaning on the wall.

“ _Do not sound unsure of your answer. This is why no one takes you seriously._ ”

“ _Fine_. No, I don’t want to use it. I don’t want to be a… _mess_ every time I just see him. I don’t want to run away just so I wouldn’t _cry_.” His face is flushed as he tried to work with words. Jeremy had always had a hard time expressing himself. “I don’t want to be so _fucking pathetic_ all the time. I want to learn to be more… chill with everything.”

The teenager shifted in his bed and scooted over to lean his back on the wall, unused to having his back straight all the time, feeling drained from trying to articulate the mess that is his emotions. “So, uh, what do I do now?”

The SQUIP grinned, victoriously smug, electric eyes gleaming.

“ _First thing’s first; go buy a new shirt._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If u have problems with my version of the SQUIP, don't hesitate to voice out your concern. 
> 
> I'm trying to portray him/it as manipulative and abusive so he is a bit more subtle with getting what he wants (and Joe used the word 'seductive'; perfect fit for Eric William Morris lol) Also, still dk about the book!squip if anyone's wondering.
> 
> love y'all!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uh.... the squipping intensifies????

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: To those who have sensibilities, I apologize. It's coz I unashamedly admit I have none.
> 
> And omg guys this story's reached 100 something kudos!!!! I'm so happy :DDDD
> 
> On another note, I have _no idea_ what's happening anymore. But I hope y'all still enjoy it?
> 
> UnBeTaEd and uNeDiTeD

“Buy a new—wait, what’s wrong with my shirt?!”

“ _Jeremy._ ” The SQUIP places its hands—and _woah_ , Jeremy definitely felt that—on his shoulders. “ _Most of the clothes that you have were bought with Michael in mind._ ”

“I _like_ them; that’s why I bought them!” Jeremy protested, tugging at the shirt he has on to emphasize his point. The SQUIP’s deadpan stare had him reeling back in realization. _Right, kind-of-gag-gift_. “You know what I meant!”

The SQUIP snorted and shook its head. It made its way over to his closet—which, to Jeremy’s embarrassment, was in a disarray—and pointed at it with its thumb. “ _That favorite shirt of yours?_ ”

Jeremy decided to play it hard. “Which one? I have, like, five of those.”

The SQUIP shocked him.

“Alright! Yes! The striped one.” Jeremy grumbled. “ _Geez_ , can’t you stop shocking me for just a second?”

“ _It’s the only functional way to discipline you, Jeremy. Anyways, you always wear that shirt because Michael said it looked nice on you. These have got to go._ ”

Jeremy’s eyes bugged as the SQUIP gestured to the entire closet. “ _All_ of it?!”

“ _Unless you can present me with proper clothing, we’re getting rid of it all. We’re going to make a new you and all of **that** could not be part of it._ ”

“But I don’t have enough money to—”

“ _You know your father’s credit card number, don’t you?_ ”

Jeremy could have sworn his heart stopped beating. “What?”

The SQUIP stared directly into his eyes. His hands started sweating and the room felt both hot and cold.

“N-no. I can’t—” Why was he breathing so fast? “I can’t do that. I- I’m not—”

“ _You’ve done it before, Jeremy._ ”

“That was—I did that to buy—”

“ _Your mother’s gift, I know. And this situation isn’t very different. Look at it this way; I have access to a limitless amount of information. I can definitely give you the means of entry to a stranger’s bank account if you want to._ ”

“That’s _stealing_. Thievery—theft. I can’t do that!” Jeremy’s breathing was coming back to normal— _weird_.

“ _Yes, and so you should just use your father’s card._ ” The SQUIP reasoned. “ _That way, you can repay him and you won’t be stealing from him._ ”

“I-” Jeremy frowned, still incredulous but seeing the SQUIP’s point. “I could?”

“ _Of course you can_ ,” The SQUIP crossed its arms with a smirk. “ _It’s better than stealing from someone else. Besides, your father was more than willing to give you money earlier. You **need** new clothes, Jeremy._ ”

Jeremy was so confused now but the SQUIP hadn’t exactly led him wrong _before_ , no matter how recent his acquisition of it was. “I…g-guess?”

“ _So, let’s go._ ”

“Wait—” Jeremy blinked. “ _Now?_ It’s like, four in the afternoon! ”

A shock ran up his spine, this time somehow lingering over his shoulders and leaving behind an unpleasant tingle that refused to go away.

“ _Stop questioning me. And it’s actually four-thirty so no more time to waste._ ”

Jeremy did so, reluctantly stopping by the master’s bedroom to swipe his father’s credit card from one of the drawers. (His father never changed its hiding place for _years_ and Jeremy ignored the SQUIP’s amused smirk as they left. Jeremy was still trying to drown out the guilt.)

+++

They ended up at Kohl’s, the only nearby store that was justified for walking. Jeremy didn’t have a driver’s license, much less learned how to drive. Michael was supposed to teach him how to drive but it never happened.

A shock up his spine (and down the entirety of his back?) caught him off guard.

 _What?_ Jeremy asked irritably, rubbing at his lower back and behind his neck in an attempt to soothe the pulsating pain.

“ _Pay attention to your surroundings, Jeremy. Absent-mindedness makes you look stupid, which is something you must stop so that your peers would actually **like** you. It’s only good to use if you wanted to know something. Now, try picking a shirt._ ”

Jeremy sighed under his breath but complied.

His eyes scanned through racks and racks of clothing, skipping over aisles that had other people browsing through them. Not seeing anything that interested him, Jeremy picked up a random shirt.

“ _That’s a girl’s shirt_.” The SQUIP sounded unimpressed.

“Sorry…” Jeremy looked down at what he had in his hands and put it back.

He scoured through the aisles and eyed a few pieces of clothing only to be met by the SQUIP’s disapproval. It wasn’t long before Jeremy gave up.

 _What do you want me to wear?_ He asks the SQUIP in defeat. There was a niggling feeling of inadequacy whenever the SQUIP voices its displeasure. Like he fails to reach some sort of expectation.

The SQUIP hums and completely takes over; it points at graphic tees, jackets, blazers, button-ups, sweaters, cardigans, jeans, slacks, and many other type of clothing Jeremy didn’t know the name of. Worst of all, Jeremy had to try them all on. Never had the teenager ever have to wear that much clothes in under an hour.

Most of the clothes were different shades of black and white but the SQUIP did allow him to get a thumbhole hoodie that only came in an off-blue color. And surprisingly, all of them kind of suited him? Jeremy never had an eye for fashion so he wasn’t sure.

By the time the SQUIP was happy with everything, the store was closing down and Jeremy was the only customer left.

When he went over to pay at the impatiently waiting cashier, Jeremy was too exhausted to even think of anything but going to bed.

+++

Jeremy woke up to the sensation of pain.

“What the _fuck?!_ ”

“ _It’s time for you to get ready for school, Jeremy._ ”

The teenager squints at the figure at the foot of his bed, mind still foggy from sleep.

Another shock went over his back and that _definitely_ woke him up from his daze. Then realization came.

 _Right_. The mall. Payless. Scary Stockboy. The SQUIP. The events from the day before came back to him and Jeremy scrunches his face in disbelief.

“ _Do you really want me to shock you again?_ ”

“No!” Jeremy jumps out of bed and nearly trips on his landing but managed to find his balance. He did still fall on his face when the SQUIP shocked him.

“ _Don’t ever do that again. It makes you look odd._ ”

Sending a glare at the SQUIP’s direction, Jeremy pushes himself up and makes his way to the bathroom. There was a moment of discomfort when he realized that he would take a shower with the SQUIP hovering somewhere.

“ _Jeremy,_ ” The SQUIP’s tone is exasperated. “ _I’ve seen your memories. I’ve seen enough of you masturbating to know what you look like naked. And we **are** going to address that, though I’ve seen a significant decline in your activities as of late._ ”

In the end, Jeremy had to take the shower with the SQUIP nagging at him on how to properly wash his body. He never knew that there was a proper way to _wash his body_. And it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t reach his own back. He simply wasn’t flexible enough.

It didn’t stop with the shower.

The SQUIP had him work on his hair twenty more minutes than the fifteen he does every day.

“ _Look at how dull your hair looks, Jeremy. You can’t expect people to like you with that hair and skin. It’s a relief that you don’t pop your acne like most teenagers do._ ”

And Jeremy shouldn’t be upset because the SQUIP was simply pointing out what was already _there_. But he is. Jeremy was aware he was… less than attractive and he never really cared before. He’s too skinny, too pale, too geeky, too pimply, too sweaty, too red in the face. It was a wonder Michael could have even looked at him.

Putting on clothes was the easiest task so far. The SQUIP just pointed at the clothes and Jeremy put them on without protest. Which reminded him that he still had to sort through the things they bought.

The SQUIP had to shock him again when Jeremy refused to eat breakfast. So Jeremy had a light meal he immediately wanted to throw up.

Riding the bus was better this time around. Turns out the SQUIP can manipulate his senses so that he wouldn’t be too overwhelmed by the enclosed space. They arrived at school with Jeremy in better spirits than when they left the house.

“ _Now, listen to me because this is very important._ ”

Jeremy took a deep breath and nodded.

“ _Keep your hands out of your pockets, keep your back straight, and don’t stutter. There is a high probability that someone will choose to comment on your new clothing. This is the time to make a favorable impression._ ”

His stomach quivered at the thought of talking to other people. “Why would I need to do that?”

“ _If you wish to forget about Michael, you need a proper distraction. Getting new friends would do the trick._ ”

“Okay…”

+++

By the time lunch rolled around, Jeremy had been greeted more times than he can count.

It was…nice. He wasn’t ignored or dismissed. He wasn’t frowned at or turned away from. He was just you normal, average, teenaged high schooler. The teachers actually _looked_ at him now and noticed when he shyly raised a hand for the recitation.

And _holy shit_ , how can changing his clothes and keeping his back straight be doing this much change?

But it was as exhausting as it was exciting.

No one had actually tried to converse with him but the constant awareness that someone could be looking at him at any given moment? Jeremy felt it tenfold. Sure, he was extremely self-conscious before but that was when _no one_ was even actually looking at him. It was an entirely different matter now.

The SQUIP had stayed silent, save for the reminders to keep his hands out of his pockets. Picking at the hem of his jacket was okay though, the SQUIP never forbade it.

Then Jeremy entered the cafeteria.

As was usual, his eyes automatically honed in on one of the tables at the middle where Michael sat with his _new friends_.

But then a sharp, stinging pain—this one more intense than the others—went over his back and to his arms.

Jeremy was barely able to bite back a screech of pain even as he fell to his knees.

“ _Stop looking at him if you wanted to forget about him._ ”

 _Wh-why did you have to do that?_ Jeremy glanced to the side where the SQUIP is.

It shrugged unconcernedly. “ _You refused to activate optic nerve blocking, therefore; I had to use other means to keep your eyes—and mind—off of him._ ”

“Yo man, you okay there?”

Jeremy stood up so fast he became dizzy. “No, no, I’m fine.” His vision finally came back to focus.

In front of him was _Rich Goranski_ , frowning but kind of poised to help him.

“ _Up, up, down, down, left, right, A._ ” The SQUIP said it so fast Jeremy was barely able to understand it.

“What?”

“ _Dude!_ ” Rich suddenly grabbed his arms and stared at him hard, eyes gleaming with excitement. “You have one?”

Jeremy, in all his coherency, repeated what he said earlier, “Uhm, what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all have no idea how relieved I am that there's finally a new character. Ugh,,,,,
> 
> Anyways! 
> 
> 1\. Problems with my ver of the SQUIP can be voiced out! I don't bite...much
> 
> 2\. You guys have amino? I'm curious because I've been active there for... 5 days? lol. If I don't update, I'm probably there or on tumblr or twitter. Look for me: Seahorse Clam
> 
> Love y'all!!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't do kids, drugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Sooo… did anyone notice that the SQUIP shocks Jeremy every time he thinks about Michael unless it was in a negative light (which was once)? I kinda feel like I have to explain this after the SQUIP dropped the “ _I had to use other means to keep your eyes— **and mind** —off of him_”. Every time he does that I had to think of an excuse, like, god, SQUIP can’t you be less sneaky????
> 
> Honestly? I don't feel too confident of this chapter but..... EHHHH who cares?????
> 
> UnBeTaEd and uNeDiTeD

“Oh, this is _awesome_!” Rich nearly burst out before he managed to get himself in control. “Where did you get it? Mell has got to be the one to tell you about it!”

Jeremy waited for his own reaction on the name but confusion won over hurt. With the SQUIP’s prompting, Jeremy nods though he still didn’t catch the drift. “Yeah… he mentioned it to me.”

Rich grins before giving him a ‘friendly nudge’— _and it hurt like a punch_ —that had Jeremy nearly recoiling in fear. Surprisingly, Rich notices and backs off, waving his hands in appeasement.

“So…” The shorter boy leans in— _up_ —inconspicuously. “How is it?”

Jeremy sputtered, flushing in embarrassment. “How is what?” The SQUIP gave a look of warning but nothing other than that.

“The SQUIP, man.” Rich smirked before he frowned. “But where did you get it? Mell got it from me.”

“Oh, I—”

“ _He’s the only one who knows about the SQUIPs here in your school, Jeremy. Tell him the truth but appease him. He needed the money; it’s why he sells them._ ”

Jeremy squints, thinking of a way to tell it without sounding weird and getting himself beaten black and blue. “I got it from Payless? B-but! I was meaning to get through you until your hookup sold it to me for less.”

“ _You’re getting better at this._ ” The SQUIP complemented. Jeremy didn’t know whether to feel proud or not because _lying is bad_. “ _It’s a matter of subjectivity, Jeremy._ ”

“It’s okay, I understand saving up.” Rich grins but Jeremy sees through it as the other boy lets his brows and lips twitch down into a brief frown. “I mean, I coulda used the money. Things are kinda rough at home, if you know what I’m sayin’…”

Jeremy scrunches his forehead, mind running in circles trying to understand what is happening.

“ _Yeah, my dad drinks too._ ”

Subconsciously, Jeremy parrots the SQUIP, then twitched as the meaning of the words registered in his mind. _What?_ Jeremy never liked bringing up his father. _No one else_ knew what his father did at home. ~~(Not even Michael.)~~ All Jeremy would say is that his dad refused to wear pants. Nothing more.

But Rich had brightened up so fast, as if this was the first time someone said those words to him and he was incredibly happy about it. And, well, Jeremy thought that maybe this could be a person who is okay to tell it to.

“Yo, fucking dads, right?!” Rich’s tone was slightly aggressive but was tinged with…relief? “Oh, hey, he usually passes out by nine- you should come over! Play X-box and all that. You know, with a SQUIP, the only controller you need…is your mind?”

_What?_ This is probably the first time _Rich Goranski_ has ever talked to him! Why would he invite Jeremy over?

Rich stood, lightly rocking on the heels of his feet, obviously waiting for an answer.

“ _Take the offer._ ” The SQUIP says off to the side just as Jeremy was about to say no. “ _He genuinely wants you to and you have nothing scheduled for tonight._ ”

And—yes, Jeremy definitely had nothing to do. (The thought of the silence and the dark was more than enough)

So he smiles, “Sure, I’ll come over.”

“Cool!” Rich whooped and raises a hand, palm out and fingers outstretched. Jeremy stares at it blankly before the SQUIP prompts him to do a high-five. He does so weakly but it didn’t deter Rich’s excitement. “I’ll see you, Jerry!”

Jeremy was left staring at his hand in wonder.

_What was that about?_

“ _I synced with his SQUIP,_ ” The SQUIP answers. “ _Now his desires are compatible with your own._ ”

Jeremy frowns and looks at the SQUIP. He thought about questioning _how_ can someone’s desires be compatible with his— _shouldn’t that be, at a moral standpoint, bad?_ —but a look at the figure before him shut his instincts down into a _no_.

So instead, he asks, “And that makes him act like we’re friends?”

“ _What is friendship but a bond between two people?_ ” The SQUIP says this with an easy grin. “ _You and Rich have a bond. It’s just digital._ ”

For the first time, Jeremy questions his decision.

+++

Unfortunately, there was drama practice after school.

And more unfortunately, Mr. Reyes finally decided that Jeremy should have a role in the play instead of only being in tech. They needed a separate person to play Philostrate instead of following the tradition of having the actor for Egeus ( _Jake Dillinger_ ) play it as well.

Which meant Jeremy doesn’t get to have the backstage all to himself because he had to be with the others. ~~(Michael never came back since they fought)~~

Which meant he’d be in the presence of other people.

_Which meant_ he’d be in the presence of Michael.

On cue, the SQUIP shocks him. “ _Stop fidgeting so much. It makes other people nervous too._ ”

Jeremy swallows the bile at his throat and wiped his sweaty palms on the rough fabric of his jeans. He’d been socially active enough for the day that the high he was in this morning came crashing down. Painfully. The mere thought of interacting with _more_ people was enough to make him feel like crying.

_I could just leave._

“ _And risk Jenna Rolan going after you?_ ” The SQUIP quirked an eyebrow before scoffing at Jeremy’s confused face. “ _You’re so blind, Jeremy. **This is why you need me**. Now, go walk over there and socialize._ ”

“Socialize?” Jeremy mutters darkly even as he obeys. “I don’t even like socializing.”

They barely filled the stage of the auditorium. Their usual seats were pushed to the side though no one was using the space created. Rich was doing push-ups off to the side while Chloe Valentine and Brooke Lohst giggled to each other. Jenna, as was usual, had her nose glued to her phone while occasionally scanning her surroundings.

_They all look busy_.

Just as he thought that, Chloe Valentine stood up and flicked her hair, a narrow-eyed look pasted on her face that told anyone to run the other way if she has her sight on you.

Jeremy and the SQUIP watched as she flaunted her way to where Christine sat at the front seat.

They couldn’t hear what she was saying but the upset frown that curved at Christine’s normally bubbly smile told him everything. From where he was standing, Jeremy caught Jenna’s angry glare disappear just as Brooke Lohst managed to pry Chloe Valentine away from an adamant Christine.

Whatever the two girls had been arguing about, it probably wasn’t good.

_Of course it wasn’t good_ , Jeremy rolled his eyes to himself. Anything said in an argument is _never_ good— _“-then FINE! I’ll leave! I can’t take you and your-”_ — it’s never good. _It never ends good._

“ _Now is the opportune time to talk to Christine_ ,” The SQUIP butted in, placing its hands on Jeremy’s shoulder.

Jeremy blinked. _Why would I do that?_

The SQUIP clicked its tongue and shocked him, “ _How many times do I have to tell you to stop questioning me? I only have in mind what is best for you._ ”

Jeremy catches his breath, having had it stolen from the pain that only dulls into an ache.  “Please- please stop doing that.” He stuttered out.

“ ** _It is my duty as your SQUIP to keep you in line_** ,” It says, completely unrepentant. “ _If you continue to act contrary to your goals, I have no choice but to utilize what is in hand to keep you from ruining your chances. At the rate you are going, you are better off following what I say. Because you are **terrible** , Jeremy. Now go.”_

Jeremy bites his lip and ducked his head down. He nervously shuffled over to where Christine sat in morose silence.

He stares at her for a moment, taking in the frown and slumped shoulders, “He-hey, is this seat taken?”

She briefly looks up before looking back down. “I don’t…know. Maybe?”

Jeremy debates with himself before sitting down anyway. Awkwardly—because he honestly did not know what to say and the SQUIP chose this moment to be _quiet_ —he shifted in his seat, feeling unwelcome.

Nervously glancing around, his eyes met Jenna Rolan’s.

Unsurprisingly, his phone buzzed.

**_Received [3:29 PM]  
Jenna Rolan:_** What are you doing? Get your pale ass talking! I wanna know what’s up.

“So hey, uh,” Jeremy put down his phone and swallowed the lump in his throat. “What’s up with… that?”

For a moment, Christine didn’t seem to want to respond but then she let out a tiny laugh and waved her hand in dismissal. “It’s… nothing, it’s just—” She cut herself off, seemingly realizing something. “Wait, I- what time is it?”

“Oh, uh,” Jeremy fumbles with his phone in surprise at being addressed. “Three-thirty— _woah!_ ”

“Never mind the time!”

Before Jeremy could have finished his sentence, Christine had pulled him up with amazing strength—or maybe he was just _that_ weak—and he had no choice but to follow her as they dashed through the backstage and into a cleaned dressing room.

Dumbly, Jeremy watched as she closed the door and locked it.

“We need to talk.”

Just outside, they could hear Mr. Reyes’s booming voice, only slightly muffled by the walls. Jeremy felt himself begin to get nervous as Christine paced in front of him. The SQUIP remained silent, its eyes narrowed at the scene unfolding before it.

“We-” Christine repeated before she took a deep breath and blurted out, “ _I’msosorryIwasignoringyouandallthatIcan’tbelieveIwasdoingitIreallyamsorryJeremy_.”

“I-” Jeremy sputters, confused. “What?”

Christine took another deep breath, jumping and shaking her hands as she exhaled. “I’m really sorry. About this week. Last week. I _know_ you and Michael were the best of friends before and you had this kind of argument that made you ignore each other. Made him ignore you. I- I see your looks. And you’re all alone and I can’t—I wanted to invite you over, talk with you, but I- something was just stopping me.”

She laughed—maybe a bit hysterically—and started scuffing her shoes on the ground. “ _God_ , I can’t believe— it was just _so strange_ that someone actually took an interest to me… I never had… that… before…” It was weird to see her slowly going still. Christine’s arms went limp at her sides even as her fingers moved in barely contained tension. Then she laughed.  “I feel like… I’m getting between the two of you.”

“ _Why are you telling me this?_ ”

“Why are you… telling me this?”

“I just- I don’t know.” She sighed and—to Jeremy’s slight relief—started moving again. “Michael said something about this squid thing and how awful it is… I’m worried. It sounded like… _drugs_ , you know?”

Jeremy stiffened and cast a nervous glance at the SQUIP. Its figure is leaning forward in interest but didn’t say anything.

“And drugs is bad. I know that much.” She continued on. “And- well, you know him better than I do. He’s been acting strange lately. I can’t put a finger on it but… I’m sorry I-”

“I-it’s okay,” Jeremy interrupts at the SQUIP’s prompting. “I- I know what you mean. I’ll keep an eye out.”

And as if a light switch has been flicked, Christine is back to her bright self. “Thank you!”

“No, uh, no problem.” Jeremy tried for a smile.

Christine grinned. “Oh, and, I’m not interested in Michael if you wanted to know.”

Jeremy could have sworn he was starting to hear things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... how'd it go? I'm sorry I can't actually put in Michael!!! I want to but I kinda have a love-hate relationship with him lol BUT if I get enough motivation, I'd probably write separate one-shot for him. So meanwhile, you guys read between the lines for what is happening to him!
> 
> So, what do y'all think Michael's doing?
> 
> Love y'all!!!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I- I apologize
> 
> I think there has to be TW? watch out for torture ig

Despite the SQUIP’s ‘ _main objective_ ’, Jeremy does worry about Michael.

Christine’s words never left his mind— _no_ , not _those_ words—even as play rehearsal ended. It had earned him a fair bit of shocks (and, hey, is it just him or is he never getting used to that pain? Shouldn’t he be, like, building up tolerance? Given, he _is_ a wimp by ordinary standards) but Jeremy couldn’t stop _worrying_.

Jake Dillinger managed to catch up at the last minute—which earned the boy a stiff grin from Christine—but Michael never did. He’d spent the remaining time nervously scanning through the auditorium, hoping he would see _him_ crashing into the doors ‘ _with style_ ’—

And— _oh Jesus Christ,_ the SQUIP was _relentless_. And completely merciless.

“ ** _Do you really enjoy being in so much pain, Jeremiah?_** ”

Thankfully— _or not_ —Jeremy managed to slip away unnoticed before he threw up all the meager contents of his stomach. He didn’t know why he suddenly had to do it nor does he have any idea why he was so _dizzy_ and quivering so hard he could barely walk without falling on his face.

The SQUIP clicked its tongue derisively as Jeremy roughly wiped at his mouth with a trembling hand.

“ ** _I cannot fulfill my objective if you keep thinking about him._** ”

“I- I- I’m s-sorry, I-” Jeremy whimpered through unintentional sobs. “I- it hurts- I can’t—”

The SQUIP cut him off, “ _I’m sorry that I have to do that but you have to keep your eyes on the prize, Jeremy.”_ Its tone sounded apologetic.

Jeremy took a shaky breath and nodded, too absorbed by fear and the quivering of his body to properly process anything.  He wasn’t about to believe it but Jeremy saw no other option than to do so.

“ _How about this,_ ” The SQUIP chimed in, as if it just came up with an incredible plan. “ _I promise to lessen my use of nervous stimulation if you stop worrying about Michael Mell. He removed you from his life with a word. You are **worthless** enough that it was that easy for him to do it. After all, what is twelve years of friendship worth anyway? If you keep on holding on to these pathetic feelings of yours, you will never be free. **You will always be pathetic and worthless**._ ”

Jeremy could feel every single word echo in his mind, felt it burrow into his thoughts. It stung deep, ruthlessly carving the message to make sure it would never be forgotten.

The worst part is that those are things Jeremy already thought of himself.

~~( _“You’re the coolest dude ever, Jeremy! Don’t you forget that. )_~~

“ _C’mon Jeremy, repeat it after me_. **_You’re pathetic and worthless_** _._ ”

“I- I’m pa-pathetic and- and wo-worthle-less.”

( _ ~~Never mind what they say! You’ve got me and I’ve got you.)~~_

“ _Good. **Everything about you is terrible**_.”

“I- I’m- e-everything about me is _terrible_.”

 _~~(We’ll make this like a-  a two-player game!”~~ _ ~~)~~

“ _That’s it,_ ” The SQUIP smiles at him. “ _You’re a pathetic human being, Jeremy Heere. Don’t you forget that. But never mind that, you have me now. I will make sure you get what you want._ ”

+++

Jeremy nervously scuffs his shoes on the ground, fingers fiddling with the stitches in his jacket’s pocket.

“Are we sure this is where he lives?” He eyed the rather run-down apartment building. Its paint is chipping off the edges and had faded into a yellowish cream instead of the white it was supposed to be. Or maybe that was the real color. Jeremy wouldn’t know.

It looked creepy with only the street lights illuminating it.

“ _It is._ ”

Jeremy cast another dubious look to his surroundings before shaking his head and muttering ‘ _102_ ’under his breath as he looked for the apartment number.

Rich had forgotten to mention where he lived so Jeremy had to ask Jenna but even she didn’t know so he had to resort to the SQUIP’s assistance. Apparently the school records were kept in a ‘ _dismally protected domain_ ’. Jeremy was still a bit on edge for breaking into something that was supposed to be confidential.

Abruptly, he found himself stopping right in front of a door.

He looked around and saw ‘ _102_ ’ written in tacky cursive at the side.

_Oh, thank you._

“ _Be more aware of your surroundings._ ”

Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his nerves. It was no big deal. This was just a night of hanging out with a friend. He shouldn’t be so nervous. He’d done this before. ( _Why was he trembling so much?_ )

Jeremy’s hand was just poised up to knock when there was a loud _thud_ from the other side of the door. He froze for a moment, the following silence leaving him tense. Then muffled sounds— _voices?_ —came from the door once again.

_Sh-should I knock or what?_

The SQUIP didn’t reply but the sounds were becoming louder and – yep, those were voices. _Yelling_ , to be more specific.

“ _Maybe you should step back_.”

Jeremy took a second to register the command before doing so.

The muffled yelling was now nearly audible but Jeremy couldn’t quite figure out the words except for the fact that it sounded _angry_. Honestly, everything that was happening right now is driving Jeremy straight into anxiety.

It didn’t take long for the door to open. Jeremy was expecting it to be opened with force but instead, it was opened like there wasn’t anyone shouting angrily with—oh yes, those were very creative curses.

“—YOU UNGRATEFUL BOY, I KNEW I SHOULD’VE JUST LEFT YOU AND THAT WHORE MOTHER OF YOURS—”

Then it was back to muffled sounds as the door was closed rather calmly.

Jeremy took a moment to just stare at who came out. That was also the time that said person noticed him.

“Oh, yo,” Rich Goranski had a constipated look in his face before a rather forced smile stretched his lips. And it hit Jeremy how different Rich _is_ from the grinning boy at school. “I thought you wouldn’t come! Sorry you had to see that. I was _sure_ he’d be passed out by now but I guess I was wrong.”

“Yeah, I-” Jeremy stares at the door right behind Rich, for the first time feeling like he had it _better_. His father never intentionally shouts at him like that. “I get it.” He smiles lightly. “Sometimes I’m glad that my dad is almost always passed out.”

“Lucky,” Rich muttered under his breath, nudging Jeremy with a sad smile. “Well unfortunately, no Xbox for us! I’m not about to go in there again.”

Jeremy found his spirits lifted by how fast Rich manages to get over what his dad shouted at him. The taller teen respected that. Admired it even. It almost made him forget just _what_ Rich Goranski is. “It’s okay, I guess.”

“Oh!” Rich was back to being rather bouncy and bright. “There’s a park right down the road. It’s pretty small but it’s better than here.”

“Yeah, sure.”

So they walked through the semi darkness in silence. There wasn’t really anything they could say to each other and Jeremy wasn’t about to broach the topic of their fathers again.

Soon, they arrived at the barely lighted park. There weren’t any benches around so they had to settle for sitting on a patch of grass. It was slightly damp but Jeremy wasn’t about to complain, especially since Rich seemed relaxed.

The SQUIP lurked at the corner of his eyesight but didn’t do anything. Jeremy was getting used to it by now.

Since Rich seemed comfortable with staring at nothing, Jeremy shifted into a looser position and prepared to let his mind wander. But then Rich opened his mouth.

“Why did you take the SQUIP?”

“Why not?” Jeremy shot back automatically before realizing just who he was talking to. He was attacked by an unreasonable amount of fear. “I- I-m sorry I- don’t know—”

“It’s okay,” Rich cut him off. Jeremy held his breath, prepared for whatever Rich was going to say for his blubber. “I don’t know why I took it either anymore.”

Okay, that was _not_ what he was expecting. Jeremy was sure he had lost track of this conversation the moment he answered.

“I mean, yeah I _know_ why I got it in the first place,” Rich continued on, unaware of Jeremy’s confusion. “I was a loser and I hated it. People hated me too. So I got it. I changed and became popular. _Everyone_ knows me. They _feared_ me. You feared me too, didn’t you? Mell did.”

 _Oh_.

Now Jeremy knew where this conversation went. But he still didn’t know what to say so he kept quiet. Without reason, his heart started beating faster.

“I don’t…think I wanted people to _fear_ me. I juth wanted them to like me. But I became what I am becauthe that ith what the ThQUIP thaid I thould do to get what I want.”

Suddenly, Jeremy found himself staring straight into Rich’s eyes. The other boy looked so… _different_ from the Rich Goranski he always saw at school. Rich Goranski was a jokester to the point of being a bully. He always grinned, always picked fights, always hit on girls who give him attention.

Rich Goranski _was not_ insecure; was not hopeful or pleading. He did not have a lisp.

But _this…_

“Mell got out.” Rich’s voice was quivering, his head twitching to the side as if…being shocked. “I can get out too, right?”

+++

The next morning, Jeremy was still wondering about Rich’s words.

_Got out?_

The SQUIP was not forthcoming with anything and Jeremy was a little bit on the slow side. But he didn’t dwell on it too much. His stomach became unsettled every time he thinks about it.

He was on his way to school when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Convinced that it was probably Jenna (or maybe Rich—they had exchanged numbers last night) he took it out to check whether it was important or not.

But when he opened it, there wasn’t anything.

“Weird,” Jeremy muttered. He was sure he felt it vibrate but scrolling through his phone told him that there was no new notification.

He was about to put it back in his pocket when it buzzed again. Frowning, he checked all of the opened apps only to see that they were all turned off. There were no new messages or anything.

“ _It must be a glitch_ ,” The SQUIP quipped. “ _Try rebooting the system._ ”

Jeremy did so. He waited for it to fully turn on before putting it back in his pocket.

Then it vibrated again.

Annoyed, Jeremy didn’t take it out.

But then it did for another two times and, worried that maybe it _was_ from Jenna this time and you can’t just ignore texts from her, Jeremy took it. Thankfully, this time there _is_ a notification for a new message.

 ** _Recieved [7:26 AM]  
Unknown Number: _** Hey loser, someone’s looking for you.  
****_Unknown Number:_ Why aren’t you answering my texts?  
_Unknown Number:_ Jeremiah Heere, if you don’t reply now, I will tell the whole school you are gay.

There was no message history. Jeremy stared at it before deciding to reply.

 ** _Sent [7:27 AM]  
_** new phone who dis?

 ** _Received [7:27 AM]  
Unknown Number:_** Are you serious?

 ** _Sent [7:28 AM]  
_** New phone, who this?

 ** _Received [7:28 AM]  
Unknown Number:_** It’s Jenna. What did you do?

_Jenna?_

Jeremy checked on his contacts and- yep, it’s blank. “What the heck?” He immediately set the number into Jenna’s name and scanned through his call logs and messages. They were all blank. Jeremy sighed.

 ** _Sent [7:30 AM]  
_** Sorry. My phone’s glitched and removed all my contacts.

 ** _Received [7:30 AM]_**  
**_Jenna:_** Oh. You should get a new phone.  
**_Jenna:_** Anyway _  
**Jenna:**_ [̸̞̱̘̾͋ē̵̪̙ͅr̶̝͍̣̬͎͐̽̕͝ͅr̴̹͘o̷̝̼͍̜̽r̴̡̖͍͓͙̓]̷̞̎̇́͝  
**_Jenna:_** So get your ass here

 ** _Sent [7:32 AM]_**  
What? I can’t read the last message

 ** _Received [7:33 AM]  
Jenna:_ ** You really should get a new phone.  
**_Jenna:_** [̸̞̱̘̾͋ē̵̪̙ͅr̶̝͍̣̬͎͐̽̕͝ͅr̴̹͘o̷̝̼͍̜̽r̴̡̖͍͓͙̓]̷̞̎̇́͝  
****_Jenna:_ Just get your ass here before I decide ousting you to the school is worth better than waiting for you.

 ** _Sent [7:33 AM]_**  
Okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character note: Rich was talking _to_ Jeremy. I don’t think he’s aware who he’s talking to at this point. He just needed to talk to someone who knows of the SQUIPs. Since he’s using Michael’s last name, that means they weren’t close. Nor did Michael’s SQUIP or Rich’s SQUIP sync to one or the other. So yes, their relationship is still quite digital with sympathy and understanding mixed in there somewhere.
> 
>  
> 
> **Also: NOTICE THAT THE SQUIP MOCKED THE STRIKETHROUGHS BY IMITATING THE THOUGHT OF THE SENTENCES.**
> 
>  
> 
> So.... *laughs nervously*
> 
> Love y'all!!!!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY MOTHER OF VIRGINS IT'S BEEN SO LONG (okay, no, it's not so long but still) AND I AM SO SORRY FOR MAKING Y'ALL WAIT. I just had to metaphorically take a step back because I burned myself out so badly--bad enough that I had a bit of a breakdown. And then I just lost all momentum I had on any of my WIPs. So...
> 
> Anyway! Let's not delay this crap of a chapter (because I _am_ still recovering from that burn)!

Jeremy put his phone back with a frown and spent the rest of the walk feeling on edge.

The confusion and mixed emotions were no better than…whatever it was before he got the SQUIP. There were so many things going on that Jeremy couldn’t make heads or tails on what he should do now. And those weird texts were _something_ that Jeremy should do something about.

“ _Michael Mell is waiting for you at the parking lot._ ”

Jeremy actually stops and whips his head around to stare at the SQUIP. They were still a few blocks away from the school but for a moment, it felt too near. Some sort of nervousness grasped Jeremy’s heart and every beat became louder and louder.

“ _I suggest you use a different route than the one you are going on now_.”

_~~Michael? Michael got out from what? Jeremy needed to talk to him.~~ _

Without question, Jeremy nods and does as the SQUIP told him, too consumed by nerves— _fear?_ —to even think about disobeying.

Finding another way to enter the campus wouldn’t have been as easy if the SQUIP hadn’t been telling him what to do. Still, Jeremy found out he could barely lift himself up when he climbed over the wall.

So with sore muscles— _did he pull on one?_ —and all-around sweaty underneath the layers of clothing he wore, Jeremy slips into the school building with little problem.

He gets to class with a lingering feeling that he _forgot_ something.

+++

At lunch he remembered the reason why he spent the morning nervous and on edge.

And the reason is standing right in front of him, poised menacingly with a raised eyebrow. Jenna Rolan easily outweighs Jeremy by so many pounds that it wasn’t even funny. And right at this moment, Jeremy is fearful for his physical well-being.

“Jenna!” He blurts out, fidgeting and sweating so badly that the SQUIP had to stop him again. “I- I uh—”

“ _Tell her that you met up with someone on the way to school and had to run to class because your conversation dragged on too long._ ”

_What?! There’s no way she would believe that._

“ _She will._ ”

Still dubious but out of things to say, Jeremy carefully repeats what the SQUIP told him to say.

“So you _finally_ got things sorted out?” said Jenna with an oddly pinched expression that Jeremy couldn’t interpret.

On the SQUIP’s urging, Jeremy nods and stutters, “Y-yeah?”

Jenna squints and Jeremy started fearing for his life as a look that cannot be anything less than annoyance crossed her face. Did he say the wrong thing?

Just as Jenna opened her mouth to make her opinion known, salvation—probably; it sure as hell seemed like one—came in the form of Rich Goranski swaggering over with an obnoxious greeting.

“’Sup Jerry!” Rich paused as his eyes slid over to the girl before carrying on. “And Jenna!”

“Uh, hey…Rich.” Jeremy swallowed down the automatic response of correcting his name. Digital relationship or not, nothing could erase the wariness he felt around the other boy.

A sidelong glance told Jeremy that Jenna wasn’t exactly pleased to see Rich. That or she’s still annoyed at whatever Jeremy did. Maybe a bit of both. Jeremy was by no means a great reader of people; much less someone like Jenna Rolan.

Rich didn’t seem at all bothered when Jenna simply raised an eyebrow in his direction. Instead, the short boy grinned up at Jeremy, “Oh hey, Jerry, why don’t you come sit with us?”

Now, here’s the thing about Rich Goranski: he doesn’t really _have_ a permanent table to sit at during lunch. He’d hop around tables depending on who he’s interested in (mainly the poor soul that somehow attracted his ire) though he spends much more significant time around the popular table. And Jeremy was _not_ prepared for that.

Sitting with the popular people during lunch? Every student’s dream come true.

But for Jeremy?

_Hell no._

“Okay.”

_What the fuck._

“Alright, let’s go then!”

Rich led the way alongside a still slightly irate Jenna and Jeremy was left to follow behind them, shooting incredulous looks to the SQUIP.

It raises an eyebrow before rolling its eyes exasperatedly, “ _It is a great opportunity to create new bonds, Jeremy. Popularity, while trivial, is an advantage you will need. You forge a bond in good terms with these people and your social standing will increase. No one wants a friend who isn’t popular._ ”

No one likes a loser.

No one notices a nobody.

“ _I’m here to make your life better. To make you more chill. And to do that, I will have to rebuild your life starting with the people you associate with._ ”

Jeremy had the vague thought that it sounded _wrong_ ~~(like there had been some sort of restart because _that wasn’t what the SQUIP said before_ )~~ but then shook it away from his mind.

+++

Walking across the cafeteria with a blabbering Rich and seemingly unconcerned Jenna felt like an entire journey in and of itself.

Jeremy could just _feel_ the stares he was receiving even as he fought against the instinct of hunching down and wishing for the ground to swallow him whole. Did changing up his wardrobe and hanging out with Rich really make him so _different_? Even _Jenna_ didn’t abandon him at the first sign of the stares.

They approached ~~Jeremy’s doom~~ the popular table without anyone bothering them.

“ _Stop exaggerating so much, Jeremy. This is precisely why no one likes you._ ”

Still in the process –though at the latter stages—of adjusting to the SQUIP’s presence _~~(everything about you is terrible--)~~_ Jeremy shifted uncomfortably before taking a deep breath and straightening up his already straightened back.

The sharp glance of Chloe Valentine was almost enough to crumble the meager courage he scrounged up.

Heat crept up his neck, cheeks, and ears as a moment that is completely and unnecessarily awkward charged up the tension.

Chloe’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?” Her tone is just as sharp as her perfectly manicured claw- _nails_ that clicked menacingly on the table.

“J-Jeremy Heere.” He introduced himself as if they hadn’t attended the same school since eighth grade and had at least two classes together every year.

“He’s cool,” Rich said in a flippant manner as he slid over and sat opposite Brooke Lohst. “Jeremy here beat JakeyD’s high score in the Xbox.”

Jeremy didn’t know whether to be annoyed at the name play (or address that Rich had repeatedly called him _Jerry_ until now) or surprised that Rich outright _lied_. They hadn’t done anything of the sort. In fact, they had spent the night just talking and staring at nothing.

“You did?!” Someone behind him groaned. “Man, and I tried so hard this time.”

Jumping in surprise, Jeremy abruptly turned to see Jake Dillinger slumped down with a disappointed pout. And it was odd to see the jock without the ever present form of one Christine Canigula. These days, Jake Dillinger could barely be separated from her side (which ~~both~~ amused ~~and angered~~ Jeremy but had Jenna stewing in what seemed like frustration).

Tilting his head—even as he tried to control his raging heart beat at the surprise—Jeremy talked as the SQUIP dictated what he should say, “W-we could always have a match. Settle our differences.”

Jake blinked down at him and for a moment, Jeremy thought— _again_ —that he said the wrong thing but Jake’s lips slowly formed a grin. “That sounds like a great idea!”

“Oh God, there’s three of them now.” Chloe looked up at them with an unimpressed sneer.

Jeremy watched as Jake slid right beside Chloe, leaving Brooke to scoot over so that they weren’t squishing each other. A teasing grin stretched Jake’s lips as Chloe huffed in annoyance.

“C’mon Chloe, you haven’t even tried it yet.”

On the urge of Jenna, Jeremy sat between her and Rich, both of whom were completely unconcerned or probably used to the odd teasing/flirting/arguing thing happening right in front of them. Jeremy, on the other hand, was quite thoroughly distracted with the byplay.

Who knew Chloe Valentine _and_ Jake Dillinger had the most mundane— _shallow? Uncreative? Mainstream?_ —way of teasing/flirting/arguing with each other.

Jeremy was convinced the stuff they were saying wouldn’t be out of place from the cheesy romantic novels his mom used to read.

Video games are so much _better_. They’re more straightforward, for one.

“ _Talk to them, Jeremy. You’re not here as a decorative ornament._ ”

Jeremy twitched both in annoyance and a prickle of fear, darting a quick look at the seemingly bored figure of the SQUIP.

_Well, what do I say to them?_

“ _Address Brooke. Compliment her. Say her hair looks nice and that you’ve always admired it._ ”

_What? I can’t—_

A warning shock sparked at his lower back.

Jeremy bit his lip, shoulders tense and spine straight, before sagging down slightly in defeat. He pasted on a smile—something he’d gotten used to recently—and pulled his eyes away from the arguing— _oh, it’s come to that?_ —pair .

Brooke seemed absorbed with filing her nails but Jeremy had turned his attention to her just in time to see her eyes darting a look up.

Jeremy opened his mouth to say something— _hi?_ —but slowly closed it as the blonde’s nicely shaped eyebrows twitched down to a frown before it vanished and her attention was once more on her nails.

A shock (lighter than the others— _is the SQUIP finally letting off?_ ) buzzed him into action.

“Hey, uh, Brooke,” Jeremy stumbled through his words, his hesitation clear in the way the sentence ended at a high pitch.

Thankfully, Brooke was oddly receptive to anyone calling her attention and had stopped filing her nails in favor of looking at Jeremy. Though she didn’t say a word, even Jeremy could see that she was expecting something worthwhile coming out of his mouth.

“Your hair looks nice.” Jeremy refrained from cringing as he waited for her reaction.

“Really?” Brooke blinked and slowly patted her hair. Then a light blush colored her cheeks, her lips twitching up slightly. She looked _pleased_.  Now _that_ is not a reaction Jeremy was expecting. “I had it trimmed yesterday. I didn’t think anyone would notice it.”

Without pause, Jeremy repeated the words the SQUIP dictated, finding himself flustered at the positive note their conversation was having, “You should keep it that way. You’re- _it’s_ very pretty.”

Brooke’s smile widened and Jeremy returned it because she looked so _pleased_ and kind of happy and Jeremy _is_ pleased and kind of happy that he accomplished a social interaction with one of the popular girls without making himself look stupid.

Suddenly, the weird moment was broken by Rich’s nearly painful jab.

Jeremy looked over, rubbing at the spot the other boy hit, to see Rich wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. If Jeremy wasn’t confused, he would have thought it looked ridiculous. But he _is_ confused so instead of saying whatever it is Rich expects him to say, Jeremy looks to the only other person he could ask.

Only to find Jenna heavily frowning at him.

Feeling slightly bolder at his latest accomplishment, Jeremy voices out his concern, “What?”

Jenna looks at him for a long, tense moment that Jeremy immediately lost what nerve he gathered and took all of his concentration not to squirm.

Then she shakes her head and put her focus back onto her phone.

Soon enough, the SQUIP called Jeremy’s attention back into the group at large, only then noticing that Jake had left and Chloe was fuming silently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry the chapter seems stiff!!!! I'm gonna try to take the momentum back but it's like pulling teeth.
> 
> So me burning myself out is mostly because of **[THIS FIC](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14911769) ** that I made. It's another boyfs with a soulmate au kinda thing going on. If you're interested, go ahead and check it out!


End file.
